Pro bono and my first ever "appearance"

This is a bit of a long post, but you will be rewarded with a highly embarrassing story at the end.

A speedy update

Firstly, I'm sorry for the two month delay. The end of year period was exceptionally busy and then I headed back home for Christmas. Two blissful weeks at home in Australia, over our summer break (I have to constantly remind people at work that Santa prefers his business trips to Australia):

Coming back to London felt a little bit strange and I was homesick. The grim cold snap didn't exactly help either:

Pro bono work

One of the things I had to look forward to on my return was a hearing for my pro bono client (I don't think they're technically our 'clients' in the legal sense, as we're volunteers helping them to help themselves, but I'll use the term here as a shorthand). This would be my first ever appearance...but I'm getting ahead of myself...

Our firm has great programs where we have the opportunity to give back to the local community. I've seen a few people now, and wanted to share the most interesting stories with you here:

1. The surprise offender

My first time at the clinic involved shadowing an experienced trainee (a good friend of mine). We saw a middle-aged man who spoke to us in broken English. He seemed vulnerable and I was glad that we could help. Eleven years ago his credit card had been stolen, and £2,000 was spent online before he was able to shut the credit card down. He reported it to the police. Now, 11 years later he got a bill for £2,000 from a debt collection agency on that same closed credit card. My friend and I were excited to problem solve and right this wrong. Part of the process we must go through is a conflict check, and unfortunately in this case there was a conflict and so we could not take on the case. The conflict check did come back with an interesting result however: our potential client turned out to have been jailed for 3 years for heroin dealing, and was a member of a known narcotics gang. We were like:

Now of course that doesn't mean that he should be charged £2,000 for a debt he didn't incur. As my friend also pointed out, it doesn't mean he wasn't vulnerable - we really had no idea what was going on in his life. I was sad to call him and refer him to other programs, but it did give us a window into a very different sort of London life.

2. The cheapskate

The third person I saw was not quite what I expected. He was in his mid-twenties, white, British and clearly well-educated. He was upset that, as a consultant, he had not been paid his bonus. Having reviewed the documents, it did seem like he had a case (albeit a weak one). What really ground my gears though, was discovering that HE EARNED MORE THAN I DID AND COULD HAVE AFFORDED ACTUAL LEGAL ADVICE! 

What I wanted to do in the interview:

"You're taking resources (i.e. my time) away from other people who actually could not afford legal advice?? Go and hire a lawyer you cheapskate!!"

Instead, I probably looked like this:

We helped him anyway, even when with further evidence it was shown that his case wasn't as strong as we had initially thought. He eventually decided to accept the situation and give up on his bonus. Little shit.

3. A clusterf**k of injustice and my first 'appearance'

The person on whom I have spent the most time has been a Hungarian man in his early 50s, who cannot speak or read English. Incredibly, to register a car in someone's name all it takes is a single signature on a form which is then posted to the DVLA. The DLVA does not run any ID checks but instead plugs that name straight into the system. What a ridiculously idiotic system, vulnerable to all kind of abuse.

Someone had used my client's name to register a car. We think it was his dodgy ex-housemate who had been charged with drug offences and had the police attend my client's house on numerous occasions looking for him, but we have no proof. In 2014, my client started getting penalty charge notices (i.e. parking fines) in the mail. But because he could not read English, and would not be expecting a letter in relation to car (given that he had never owned a car and did not have a UK drivers licence), he ignored them. Mistake. 

He paid up, frightened, not really understanding the situation and thinking he had no choice. He reported the fraud to the police (who did nothing about it), and hired a translator who helped him to file witness statements to the Court. The witness statements were again, in broken English, and he did not attach any documents. The Court refused to accept his witness statements out of time. The bailiffs kept coming to his house.

He could not afford legal advice, and in Hungary there is no such thing as Citizens Advice Bureaus (in Australia called Community Legal Centres) who provide free advice. Finally he met someone, who knew someone, who knew about these centres and eventually they got in touch with us. He had around 20 parking fines from 4 different Councils, totalling over £3,000. It was an insight into how difficult life is as a migrant to a country where you don't speak the language or understand the legal processes.

My friend and I were like...LET'S DO THIS.

We've spent months challenging each fine, with one Council (I am going to name drop here - the London Borough of bloody Newham) being particularly obstinate. We finally appealed all the way to the Environment and Traffic Adjudicators. This was the hearing I had to look forward to on my return to London.

The hearing - a saga so ridiculous it would only happen to me

The night before the hearing, I prepared for hours. I wrote some oral submissions. I created a diagram showing how the signature on the form was different to his signature. I had just spent the past 2 weeks in a public inquiry, and so was feeling inspired by all the barristers and cross-examination that I saw. I was ready.

The next day, my friend and I headed to Angel Tube Station. We exited the station and she suddenly said: "Wait why did you bring us here? The Tribunal is at Chancery Lane". Shit!! 

We jumped into a cab, thinking it would be quickest, but of course it immediately ground to a halt and we were stationary in standstill traffic. Shit!!

We finally got to Chancery Lane, and I took my friend to where Google Maps indicated. She said "Why are we in this street? Furnival Lane is over there". Shit!!

I sprinted to the Tribunal, making it there with 3 mins to spare. Luckily the hearing was running late, so I had about 10 minutes to regroup and calm down. Deep breaths. I started to psych myself up again. I was ready for this. I was finally going to do the work that lawyers do on TV. This was my Alicia Florrick/ Diane Lockhart moment!

We walked into the small room and sat down. I started to speak, but the Adjudicator cut me off and spoke directly to my client and his translator. I was literally sitting on the edge of my seat. I was thinking, "c'mon, ask me a question! Any question! I know all the answers!" 

The adjudicator introduced himself and said that the result of this adjudication would be binding. He then said: "Now before I go any further, I have read your appeal submissions and seen the evidence that you presented, and I agree with your submissions that Mr X was not the owner of the vehicle at the time".

Wait what?? ... That's it??

Oh my god, that's it. I didn't get to say anything.

Did I realise this at the time and shut up? No. 

I kept trying to add some kind of value but I was simultaneously trying to stay quiet and look disinterested. If I'm honest, I was still like this:

At the end of the short hearing, the adjudicator indicated we should return to the waiting room and he would write and print his judgment immediately. As we stood up to go, he turned to my friend and, glancing in my direction, said "I'm afraid I must have cost your colleague the chance to practice her advocacy"...

Yep. He really said that. My Hermione-esque performance must have been all over my face.

And that, my friends, is the story of my first ever appearance as a lawyer. Classic.