September 2022 to November 2022 

The Courteous Slide Toward Compromise

September 2022

 The Courteous Slide Toward Compromise

Where I handed over everything.

And they leaned back, not in support, but in soft retreat.

I came into September fully armed.

Documents. Disclosure bundles. Photos.

Invoices. Security footage. Gas safety reports.

USBs personally dropped into their hands.

This wasn’t scattergun.

It was surgical.

Everything was labelled, structured, dated, delivered.

I did the solicitor’s job — because she wouldn’t.

And yet, the more I handed over, the more neutral she became.

The Joint Expert and the Battle for Boundaries

My solicitor agreed with the Defence solicitor on the expert.

Fine. But then the choreography began again:

• They drafted the approach letter
• Discussed a timeline for instructions
• Pushed for schedule extensions
• Suggested that witness statements should inform the inspection

Which, on paper, sounded procedural.

But in practice, it created another opening for the Defence solicitor to influence the expert.

And sure enough — he pressed:

• “We’ll need a live link during inspection.”
• “The Defendant wasn’t allowed back into the property.”
• “So, we’ll need real-time access, at least via video.”

He framed this as practical.

But it was a power play.

I Said No. I Pointed to the Court Order. I Made It Crystal.

“There is no live stream permitted. That’s not a loophole — that’s a boundary.”

“Our witness statements will speak. Not a camera. Not a remote presence.”

—(Me, September 2022)

And my son?

He was already spiralling at the thought of it.

My solicitor disagreed… softly.

Then agreed… eventually.

• She said maybe the expert could decide for himself
• She said he might not even need contact at all
• She said don’t worry too much, telephone should be enough
• She said she’d told him no… but softly, and only once

Then, when I pushed again — formally, firmly, unmistakably —

She finally wrote and confirmed again:

“I have already objected to this suggestion in my email of 7 September.”

—Solicitor, September 2022

But it never felt like a line in the sand.

It felt like something she’d revisit — if asked nicely enough.

And Then She Billed Me Again. Full Price for Soft Focus.

• £1,200 for previous under-quoted work
• Another £2,400 requested for upcoming prep
• Total requested: £3,600
• Plus, the barrister’s fee recap — although that hearing felt like a ghost at this point

This Was the Month I Realised

I’d Given Everything — And Still Had to Defend the Basics

• Safety
• Control
• A fair inspection
• Basic contact rules

I wasn’t resisting inspection.

I was resisting being cornered and overruled in my own home — again.

And slowly, I was starting to see that the only person holding the procedural line… was me.

September 2022 – Closing Reflection

I handed over everything.

And watched them lean back.

Not in support.

But in soft retreat.

I wasn’t asking for sympathy.

I was asking for safeguarding.

I wasn’t resisting inspection.

I was resisting being cornered.

And every time I drew a line,

They softened it.

Repackaged it.

Quoted it.

Then billed me for it.

September didn’t bring resolution.

It brought rehearsal.

The next page doesn’t just hold the final quarter.

It holds the cost of every compromise.

October 2022

 The Calm Tone That Masked the Procedural Mess

Where I met my obligations line by line—while they drifted further from theirs and asked me to pay for the privilege.

I chased disclosure.

I complied with the court order.

I unearthed archived documentation—original site photos, correspondence, evidence of dodgy wet-room workmanship—and sent it all over, clearly labelled, split into batches so they could handle the file sizes.

I did that.

Not them.

And what did I get in return?

• A paralegal to draft my witness statements
• A solicitor who still wasn’t officially “on the record”
• A procedural opponent who ignored court deadlines, dodged correspondence, and claimed both sides could be criticised for delay

Witness Statements? Yes. Support? Still Conditional.

I agreed to the process.

Chose telephone calls over in-person visits because life was still spinning

plates—caring for my father, supporting my son, managing our health.

And when the drafts came back?

Another round of proofreading.

Another reminder that we must be “happy” to sign the Statement of Truth.

As if we were the variable.

As if accuracy wasn’t a standard they should’ve met already.

Disclosure? I Complied

They Stalled. And She Backed Down Again.

My solicitor wrote to the Defence, pointing out their breach of the court order.

She warned of an application to strike out the Defence and Counterclaim.

Strong words. Promising ones.

But then?

“I will not be advising my clients to issue the Application referred to… it will be wasted…”

So—threat made but never followed through.

Not because the breach didn’t matter.

But because it was easier not to act.

And Then Came the Cost Warning… Again.

• You’ve spent more than your claim is worth
• You should settle
• Think about the stress. Think about the anxiety
• You’re probably not going to get more than the legal fees anyway

Except that wasn’t new.

We’d heard it before.

And every time she said “settle,” I heard “let it slide.”

But I didn’t bring this case to see what we could get.

I brought it to show what had been done.

To prove what was allowed to happen, and how many people turned away once it did.

And still—I paid. I reviewed. I cooperated.

She wasn’t doing me a favour by filing that Notice of Change.

She should have considered filing it much sooner—not after being forced.

She was charging me for work I’d already done for her.

This wasn’t support.

It was procedural theatre.

And I was paying for the front-row seat. 

November 2022

When Everything Was an Excuse Except the Truth

Where missed deadlines were softened, tampered evidence was ignored, and even the solicitor’s silence was dressed as strategy

By November, the evidence trail was deep enough to map from space.

But somehow, no one was responding like it mattered.

• Disclosure? Partial and mishandled
• Communications? Misrouted, mislabelled, missing in action
• Statements from my son? Raw, clear, terrifying—and still side-lined

Then I discovered months of critical emails buried in my junk folder—messages about disclosure deadlines, witness obligations, and expert access discussions.

And still? No urgency from my solicitor.

Just a new Notice of Change filed at Court to reflect the firm’s rebranding…

As if that somehow mattered more than timely compliance.

They Fumbled Disclosure—and Then Blamed the Format

I notified her that I couldn’t open the Defendant’s disclosure files.

Her reply?

An autoresponder: “I’m away until Monday.”

And by the time she returned?

Still no urgency.

No acknowledgment that the deadlines she and the Defence were agreeing to behind the scenes directly affected my ability to respond, challenge, or verify anything.  

She agreed to delay our witness statements.

She redrafted timelines—again.

But never once asked me: Do you even have access to what’s been disclosed?

They Questioned My Integrity Over a Phone and an Email Account

I explained—clearly—that:

• My AOL account was shut down in 2020 due to virus issues
• own in 2020 due to virus issues
• Emails from that window were sparse
• My phone died in 2021, and the battery made data recovery impossible
• My son’s messages had been lost, but recovered via cloud backup

And what did the Defence do?

• Demanded evidence of loss
• Claimed I must be hiding documents
• Insisted the expert’s name be purged from the pleadings
• Used his photographs in their disclosure while calling him inadmissible

They wanted to erase the expert—

But still relied on his work.

And my solicitor?

She agreed to redact the pleadings.

Quietly.
Just like that.

My Son’s Evidence Didn’t Ask to Be Believed.

It Made Disbelief Impossible.

• His messages showed gaps in the timeline
• His WhatsApp screenshots disproved their dates

We weren’t confused.

We were exhausted.

Because we kept being asked to prove we weren’t lying.

The contractor’s behaviour—his aggression, his intimidation in our own home—was never about a building dispute.

It was about control.

And I said so—clearly. Professionally. Without panic.

I told my solicitor:

• The Defence’s correspondence was driving up costs
• Their stalling had nothing to do with “fairness”
• Every unnecessary letter cost me money
• My Statement of Truth should contain my observations of their conduct
• And this was no longer miscommunication—it was reputational staging

They Called It Cooperation. I Called It What It Was: Obstruction

They weren’t just failing to help.

They were helping each other stay just this side of procedural breach.

That wasn’t strategy.

That was survival—on their terms, not mine.

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