One hears of fellows and females who win the national lottery, enter again and miraculously win a fortune for a second time. I can vaguely identify with this. Six or seven years ago I won a sort of lottery: I was selected, at random, to serve on a jury at Gloucester’s Crown Court and, lo!, an official letter has arrived demanding that I should do the same again this autumn. I am twice blessed. I loved the first occasion. It was like being part of a film or television drama with plots and sub-plots being acted out with witnesses, the accused, forlorn victims and thrusting legal personages all cascading in front of the bench and adding to the suspense and excitement. I took the role very seriously and debated the ins and outs of the case with real vigour in the jury room. I proved an earnest ‘Mr Liberal’ figure, keen to lead my rather intolerant colleagues – who would have hung their own grandmamas 'n' grandpapas at the drop of a hat I fancy – to consider any evidence that might prolong the fairly obvious call of ‘Guilty!’. I wonder what will happen this time.
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