Mosaic

Matt and I are spending the morning in court. He did not drive to the hearing. He has been rehearsing what it might be like not to drive. ‘Where is the magistrates court?’ we ask a young woman. ‘It’s on the other side of town. Take the ring road past the docks.  You can’t miss it.’

Perhaps the young man sitting on the bench next to me in the waiting hall outside Court Two has come straight from his yacht. He is tall and conventionally handsome. He wears canvas deck shoes, and his beige knee-length cotton shorts are embroidered with tiny anchors. ‘Est’d MCMLXXXVI’ reads the tattoo on his wrist.

While Matt is lost in his book: ‘High Price, Art Between Celebrity and the Market’ by Isabelle Graw, I examine the co-offenders. A red headed woman with a tongue ring sits with a skinny young guy with a crew cut and lines shaved in his eyebrows. Although he has ‘Mathias’ densely tattooed up his arm in brilliant colours, the redhead calls him Sean. She has Renaissance grotesques tattooed behind her ears. They are not appearing in court, they are waiting for someone who is. ‘She’s gotta be here somewhere’ the redhead says. ‘Yeah’ he agrees.

‘John Muffett to Court One’ announces the loud speaker.

‘Hello Sean’ says a fat girl, walking down the hall.

‘Hello.’ Sean looks sheepish.  Once she has passed, he whispers in the redhead’s ear. They snigger and glance at her conspiratorially.

‘I expect the hold up is due to the backlog from the strike yesterday’ a woman behind me booms.

‘Could be’ says her partner.

‘Hello Dad’ says a wizened hardnut opposite us into her phone. She has a menacing, depressed air, in spite of the love hearts tattooed up the back of her neck. ‘Mum says can you let Patchy out?’ she says flatly. No one is less likely to be tricked by false hope than me, her voice tells us.

‘How do you address a magistrate?’ booms the woman behind us.

‘Your majesty’ says her partner.

‘I’m not staying, I’m going back to the caravan’ says the depressed woman, putting the phone back in her denim jacket.

‘Shireen rang last week’ says her mother, a big woman sitting next to her. ‘She was calling from the Hook of Holland. “I’m coming over” she said. “Don’t count on me, I haven’t got the room” I said to her, “not with those three children.” I never heard from her after that. I don’t know how she’s got the money.’

‘She probably hasn’t’ says her daughter.   ‘I expect she thought you’d pay for her.’

‘She can think again on that front’ says Mum.‘ ‘Not after last time.’

The crowd behind us grows increasingly nervous. They grate our nerves too with their enormous gales of false laughter.  Their conversations get louder and louder.

‘Trevor Beckworth to Court One’ says the tannoy.

‘I want to move away from the shouting’ Matt says.

‘Darren Button to Court Three.’

We’ve been here for five and a half hours. The man next to me now is not a shouter. He’s bright and amusing, and he has barbed wire tattooed up his arm.  He’s off to Hamburg tomorrow to see the bout between David Haye and Wladimir Klitschko.

‘The last time I was here,’ he says. ‘I was laying the carpet tiles.’

‘Really?’ I say.

‘Yeah, they’re very strict. You can’t do anything when they’re in session. You have to charge more because of it.  A lot of the time you can’t work at all.’

Jerking his head he indicates a particular screamer at the back of the hall. ‘I’ve moved away from her once already’ he says, ‘There are two types of people here. The petty offenders and the ones the rest of us are paying for.’

‘I’m in flooring too.’ I say.

‘Matthew Collings to Court Two’ says the tannoy.

 

Posted under: Mosaic by Emma Biggs | Tags: 'HIgh Price Between Art and Celebrity' > do not speed > Emma Biggs mosaic artist > Isabelle Graw > Matthew Collings spends day in court > mosaic artist > Mosaic artist spends day in court > mosaicist meets tiler > obey traffic laws > what happens when you are flashed by a speed camera.