A judicial road trip

Richard Barr's latest 'Tales from practice' about his recent trip to Spalding (Solicitors Journal 153/37, 6 October 2009) got me thinking about some of the far flung corners of England I've visited in my career.

Staying with a Lincolnshire theme, I was once something of an expert on Belgian Blue cows as they were one farmer in Boston's pride and joy until some hapless homeowners allowed their dog to dig under the garden fence and worry said cattle. Many of the herd were pregnant and the distress caused by the yapping canine led to a high incidence of miscarriage, particularly bad news in a breed which can only safely calve a limited number of times in their fertile life. It may at first glance seem quite an odd case for a defendant insurance lawyer, but we were instructed by the homeowner's property insurers on the basis of a clause which you will probably find in your own home's policy '“ offering some cover for any civil claims against the property owners. Little known facts like this could prove very useful in a pub quiz one day.

I've taken witness statements in Norfolk, travelling there in a partner's pride and joy '“ his new TVR. Its arrival on my home street at some unearthly hour of the morning was announced, 30 seconds before I glimpsed it, by an increasingly thunderous growl. The neighbours must have loved me. I confess to having been something of a petrol-head since my late teens and I did enjoy my first TVR experience, although the rain dripping through the passenger window and its sheer engine volume became quite wearing around four hours into the trip.

Memorable Manchester

There was also the time when I drove my opponent solicitor from Manchester to Carlisle for the handing down of a judgment. The rain was torrential all the way, making the M6 more hideous than usual. My poor passenger had a really bad day as his client lost and he then thought that the crazy lady from the opposition was kidnapping him on the way home as I had a total mental block and headed north on the M6. Yes, north '“ from Carlisle. On a Friday evening. He politely joked that he perhaps should call his wife if we were eloping to Gretna Green. Memorable for all the wrong reasons.

I've been to courts all around Manchester's outskirts and the north generally, including my home town of sunny Southport. I also had a spate of cases issued in Mold, where I'd only ever previously headed on trips to the ice rink. If a group of solicitors and barristers got together to write a book about the most pleasant courts in the country '“ those with the comfiest chairs, most natural light and tastiest refreshments '“ the new all singing, all dancing court building in Manchester would give many of them a run for their money; it features a high-quality coffee bar on its ground floor and plenty of glass to maximise the light (although the court staff were complaining even in this year's distinctly average summer that the building was like an oven. Let's hope for their sake that the season is a similar washout in 2010).

I like to do my own advocacy when I can and, having had a whole range of experiences at the hands of judges, my most vivid tongue-lashing memory was doled out by a Manchester judge who took exception to an extremely nervous junior solicitor who continually forgot to address him as Your Honour. A number of applications had that morning been listed for the same time in open court, meaning that the poor soul was reduced to a quivering wreck in front of an audience of fellow lawyers, who were probably all thinking 'there but for the grace of God'. It still sends a shudder down my spine to recall.

The court experience for a solicitor is of course somewhat different when a barrister orates the case for your mutual client.

Our role is then to keenly observe and pass tremendously important notes across to counsel in an urgent and surreptitious manner designed to unnerve the opposition. The most jaw-dropping moment for me in this regard occurred in Leeds several years back, when the claimants' barrister in making submissions on costs announced that he had not known about the substantial payment into court (as they were then known) which had been made by our defendant client way in advance of the trial. The judge was amazed to hear this, as were we, and the claimants' solicitor looked completely mortified because their clients had been awarded nothing. The claimants went on to receive a kicking on costs, too, as a result of that little revelation. I think we all smelled a further negligence claim in the offing.

My next foray into court will be on Monday for the hearing of my client's application to strike out the claim against it. Not one for the faint hearted. I'm hoping that everyone will remember to correctly address the judge and that we emerge both victorious and unscathed, having first imbibed some half decent coffee.