Rough/tough justice

Some people may sit at their desks in silent resentment of their bosses; others vent any issues on a gym punchbag. Me? Not one for doing things by halves, I put my head right above the parapet and arranged for our head of team to be locked in
a cell at the Manchester Police Museum, after being paraded through the streets of Manchester dressed in a comedy-striped convict’s
outfit and subjected to public humiliation in the form of
a mock trial.

The initiative was called
‘Lock Up Your Boss’ and was
part of a drive by the Insurance Institute of Manchester’s president, Barry Thompson, to raise £150,000 in a year for the Young Oncology Unit at Manchester’s Christie Hospital.

My boss was incredibly sporting about being nominated (following the consumption of some wine on my part) at the institute’s dinner last year. It did, however, prove enormously difficult to keep his diary free of commitments in the run-up to the event.

The mild panic on his
face when he thought his BlackBerry might be confiscated for the duration of his incarceration was a sight to behold. Ultimately, all ‘prisoners’ were permitted to keep their smartphones to assist them in drumming up sponsorship.

Our team had much fun coming up with a list of ‘crimes’ with which our boss could be charged. They included possessing an unlawful
hairstyle when hassled and
a recommendation for an anti-social behaviour order (ASBO) for sending emails at unsociable hours.

Our boss chose to plead
not guilty and gave the judge some backchat, which didn’t
go down so well. However, he fared rather better than one of his fellow prisoners, who decided to swear an oath to
Sir Alex Ferguson rather than
on the Bible – Barry Thompson is a well-known Manchester
City fan.

The event went very well
and raised almost £18,000 for this extremely worthy cause.
It also provided a great deal
of amusement both in our Manchester office and nationally, with donations pouring in from colleagues,
as well as my boss’ friends
and family.

Back to business

My next courtroom encounter for the month was an altogether more serious affair, before a Manchester judge who was
new to me. I arrived at court
to find ushers dashing
around frantically. The other
side had not sent their case summary to the court
in good time to allow for her reading it before our case management conference.

My opposing advocate was
a local barrister who was more than a little nervous about this tardiness: the judge is known as something of a stickler for the rules. The usher then asked us no less than three times on the way into the courtroom to be sure that mobile phones were switched off/silenced. I am guessing that ringtones are another of her pet hates.

After all that, the hearing proceeded without a hitch.
The other side’s barrister only told me as we emerged from the court unscathed that he had been expecting a serious telling off because of the late case summary. The judge has a reputation for making draconian orders such as striking out statements of case
if rules are not adhered to. Apparently, she is also a particular fan of the new costs regime. I have made a mental note of her name for future reference.

Yesterday, I attended a meeting in Preston with two solicitors with whom I have not previously dealt. We spent over two hours discussing a case before they politely escorted me to their office door. In the moment of departure, one of them asked
if I was going back to the office
to write my article, which momentarily threw me as we
had not discussed any articles.

He clarified that he was talking about this column in Solicitors Journal, which he
said he reads each month. I therefore end by saying hello
to him, and everyone else reading this piece. SJ

Catherine Burtinshaw is a solicitor at Kennedys