All that nonsense about establishing the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth is as outdated in TV-land, it seems, as poor old Rumpole of the Bailey.

If you're not smart, cynical, streetwise and sassy you can't get anywhere these days: and that includes, for one of the telegenic but amoral young barristers of Channel 4's latest hit North Square, into the bed of the attractive young solicitor who could be the key to landing some lucrative clients.

North Square is, as you would expect, as smart and cynical as they come - just like the high-flying young barristers whose lives and complicated loves it portrays.

The show is, boasts executive producer George Faber, "packed with brilliant, colourful, high-flying barristers who live to work, put winning the case over seeing justice done, and who are quite prepared to break the rules to win the day."

But try as they may the attractive, hard-faced young lawyers are little more than a side-show in this series about a fictional barristers' chambers in Leeds.

What makes North Square more than just a clone of This Life is the character of barrister's clerk Peter McLeish, played by Phil Davis.

As one learned QC put it he is a mixture of Don Corleone and Mother Teresa, with a Bethnal Green accent: a kind of ageing barrow-boy-made-good who puts the fear of God into the barristers who, in theory, employ him, and effectively holds their careers in the palm of his hands.

It is his network of contacts, his wheeling and dealing, his salesman's panache in 'pitching' his barristers' skills to prospective clients, which his employers rely on to bring in the business.

North Square's creator, writer Peter Moffat, is a former barrister - and is under no illusions about who holds the real balance of power.

"Clerks do long days at the pub, not at their desks, doing very important work - drinking solicitors into the ground so that their work all comes to them," explains Moffat. "The barristers think they're in charge because they're articulate: but at the end of the day it's the clerks who are in control."

In North Square, the barristers know that. "He's murdering his liver to get us work," one appreciative lawyer comments to another as McLeish chats up an armed robber who is a potential client.

And McLeish is more than just provider: he's nanny, too. In another episode he tells his young barristers: "I'm gonna look after you. All of you. Because I love you. No-one f**** with one of my boys." But that's telly. How true to life is North Square?

"I only watched it once," admits Geoff Elliott - who is about as close to a real-life Peter McLeish as you can get, a former barristers' clerk who set up York chambers before moving to chambers in Park Square, Leeds.

"I missed the first episode and then my daughter rang me from London - she's a solicitor - and said I should watch. But I haven't seen it since. I think there's an element of truth in it which is exaggerated, but it doesn't really get close to the real life of a barristers' chambers or of the clerk."

For a start, he jokes, most barristers don't look like the cast of North Square. "On the TV they're all tall, young or handsome, or leggy and blonde. But when you have 36 barristers and four QCs, circumstances dictate they are going to be a mix of people. Little short ones, big fat ones, old ones, young ones..."

Like McLeish, Geoff - who left chambers three years ago - has got a great line in one-liners.

But unlike McLeish he's got a well-developed sense of right and wrong to back it up. Looking after a barrister is a bit like having a racehorse, he says at one point with a sardonic glint in his eye.

"You have to run them as much as possible as long as they're winning." But he quickly modifies that.

'It's not about winning, it's about justice. It's about doing the job properly." He is particularly scathing about an incident in North Square where McLeish sends pupil barrister Morag Black to handle a serious sexual offences case: a brief she obviously isn't ready for.

"A good clerk would never have done that," Geoff says scornfully. "There is a member of the public out there. It could be their liberty at stake, or in a civil case it could be the rest of their life affected.

"Like the solicitor you want the best for that client; and in providing that you get the trust of the solicitor. You would not jeopardise that by putting an inexperienced barrister on a case. You cannot just send so-and-so. The solicitor might never come back again. You wouldn't risk it."

Part of the clerk's job - one ignored in North Square, Geoff points out - is to follow his barristers to court, watching their performance, assessing their strengths and weaknesses and meeting the solicitors who are their clients. That way, he can make sure the right person is assigned to the right job, and the solicitor will come back for more.

One of the things that makes North Square such riveting drama is the balance of power between the working class McLeish and the educated 'toffs' who are his bosses.

The abrasive McLeish is often openly contemptuous of his 'employers'.

Sadly, it's not like that, says Geoff. "Some barristers are very, very clever, and some are Mr Average Barrister," he admits.

"But although I might have been very good at being a clerk, I couldn't be a barrister. Particularly with the senior and successful members of chambers, you hold them in high regard."

But there are elements of North Square that do strike a chord. McLeish is the fixer, the man who finds work for the barristers in his care: but also looks out for them.

Geoff says the job of a barristers' clerk is a mixture of confidante, career manager, office manager, fee negotiator and salesman - with a bit of the football manager thrown in too.

He helps to bring in work (though barristers have their own contacts too); he liaises with court about listings, making sure his barristers can make hearings when they're supposed to and are neither too busy or not busy enough; he holds the hand of younger barristers; and above all, like McLeish, he looks after the barristers in his care.

"Some of these people are working away from home for weeks on end in other parts of the country," he says.

"Their only point of contact apart from their family is their clerk. As a clerk, I saw lawyers' families while they were away to make sure they were all right and had everything they needed.

"In that respect, I was sort of like a football manager.

"You've got a team of people and your job is to manage them, to tackle anything that comes along so you can take the weight off their shoulders and leave them to do their job."