Guilty, M'lud

I pass the entrance to Lewes Crown Court every day, the mid point between my flat in the High Street and my office in the High Street. Normally there are clusters of news photographers lurking with their long lenses to capture the comings and goings of the innocent and/or guilty.

There are often barristers perched on the steps in wigs and gowns, having a sly fag while chatting on their mobiles.

At 11pm, however, on returning from drinkies at the Pelham Arms with friend and colleague Michael, the gates were shut and the entrance was illuminated rather spookily by the lantern between the columns. I particularly like the shadows of the lantern brackets on the curve of the columns.