In case you have not been reading my other blog, and wondering what has been going on over the past couple of weeks, let me tell you a story. Like all good stories, it starts once upon a time. I haven’t quite got to the ending, but certainly there is a good chance the last words will be “and they lived happily ever after”.

So, once upon a time, on 1st October 1997 to be precise, I started work at Brooke North – a firm of solicitors in Leeds. I moved from Newcastle because my then girl-friend (and now wife) got a job as a trainee clinical scientist at St James Hospital, and in the late 1990s commercial property lawyers could find jobs relatively easily.

I was full time at Brooke North until 2005, and felt great loyalty to the firm (and still do, very much). The people were more than colleagues, and some of the clients, at least, friends. But for various reasons I stopped being a lawyer and began a history degree at Leeds University. This is not the place to describe that – except to say it was a fabulous experience, and I would not do things differently. I stayed in contact with Brooke North and went back for the summers of 2006 and 2007 during my long summer holidays.

In 2008, when I had finished the degree and was about to start an MA in Medieval Studies part time, Brooke North didn’t have any vacancies. That was fine – I didn’t expect them to hold a job, particularly a part time job, for me. I again stayed in close contact though, whilst I worked for a firm called Emsleys. And I fell on my feet there too. Emsleys was a lovely firm, and I have the same feelings of loyalty to them  as I do to Brooke North. However, there was not quite enough work to keep my employed so at the beginning of 2011 I was made redundant. Whilst this hurt at the time, I absolutely could recognise the reasoning and in fact, if I had been Emsleys, I would have made me redundant a few months before.

I quickly found myself in a position where I had two jobs from which to choose; a situation in which I both recognised I was extremely lucky and hated. Brooke North had a space for me, but another firm had a job which sounded less familiar, more stressful but possibly a better career option. It was a difficult decision, but because of the loyalty I felt to Brooke North, and because it was what I knew, I went for that one. And from the start I really enjoyed it. The work, whilst being familiar, was engaging and I could tell that I was appreciated – always a motivating factor for me. So, I had made the right decision and nothing could go wrong.

Except it did. Three Fridays ago I was out with some former Emsleys’ colleagues, and one asked whether it was correct that one of the partners from Brooke North (whom I shall call ‘Nigel’, for that is his name) was going to a new firm. This was the first that I had heard of it and I obviously looked shocked. The person who told me asked me not to tackle Nigel about it, and I told him I would not. On the Tuesday I tackled Nigel about it. I was worried about the implications it would have for me, and I couldn’t just not find out and let events take their course. Nigel said it was true, but we would need to talk about it later.

Two Friday’s ago, Nigel called me into a meeting room and told me that Brooke North was to close. Permanently. At Christmas. My jaw hit the ground. I had not seen it coming, and it was like being hit over the head, just the once, but by an anvil. This was a disaster. No-one is hiring commercial property lawyers at the moment. I had definite wounds to lick (hence the most recent entry on this blog). It wouldn’t have been so bad had I only had the one job offer when I was made redundant from Emsleys, but that I had had two and, apparently, made the wrong choice, left me hurt and embarrassed.

The following week I rang several other firms, and had one interview – which only went moderately (for which, read ‘badly’). However, on the Thursday Nigel mentioned that he had spoken to my favourite client who has his own house building firm, who I shall call ‘Darren’ (for, again, that is his name), and there was a distinct possibility that Darren might want to employ me as an in-house lawyer. Darren, though, was away in exotic climes and any discussion would have to wait a week. It sounded ideal, but I forced myself not to get too excited about it. This was only a possibility, and it may have been an off-the-cuff, instant reaction remark. But it was a stong light that lifted my mood a little.

This blog entry has gone on too long, so to cut out minor details, Darren has returned from his holiday, has confirmed that he would like me to work for him, and that I will be doing much, much more than just being a lawyer. It all sounds tremendously exciting, and new, and different, and it could be that this whole experience proves to have been For The Best. I will let you know how I get on.