In the back room of the Ladbroke Arms pub in west London, on a hot afternoon at the end of last month, two of the more combative – and lucrative - voices of our times were sparring, amiably. At one end of the table was Nicholas Mostyn, once the best-paid divorce barrister in England – “Mr Payout” – and for 13 years a high court judge. And at the other, Jeremy Paxman, the former grand inquisitor of the BBC, scourge of spin doctors and secretaries of state.
Mostyn was telling an involved and amusing story about something that had been said after hours at a lawyerly dinner, and Paxman was punctuating this lively performance with trademark sneers. “Oh, Christ,” he muttered in despair, “is this a legal joke?” And then, when Mostyn was still giggling roundly at his own punchline, there was the growled rejoinder: “Oh, do fuck off, judge…”
