January 2022 to April 2022 

When January Repeated December

Where pressure became policy, my expert was forced into defence, and I was charged to carry it all.

 

Redacted and Refined Version

 

I started 2022 with more pressure, not less.

 

On 4 January, the Defence solicitor resumed the routine he’d rehearsed since spring 2021: target my expert and make me the collateral.

 

“I now give notice that… I am going to object to the claimant… having permission to rely upon your evidence.” — (Defence solicitor, 4 January 2022)

 

This wasn’t about clarification. It was leverage—designed to extract responses he could later reframe as failure. If not from my expert, then from me.

 

My Expert Was Forced into Defence

 

Within hours, my expert replied—not once, but twice. His tone stayed professional. His message was clear:

“Within the provisions of CPR 35.6, questions to experts are for the purposes of clarification… not to introduce new matters or issues.” —Expert, 4 January 2022

When pressed again, he didn’t bend. He confirmed:

• The roof defects were not ‘snagging’
• No email from the Defendant changed his conclusions • The evidence stood on its own
• And most critically: he would not waste more of my money replying endlessly

“I do not intend wasting more of the claimant’s money on responding further. My position is clear.” —(Expert, 10 January 2022)

But by then, the pressure had already landed—because it hadn’t just been on him.

 

My Solicitor Didn’t Defend Me. She Invoiced Me.

 

While the Defence solicitor targeted my expert, the solicitor I engaged pressurised me.

 

“If you wish me to go through the questions and answers… I would be grateful if you could provide a further £500 plus VAT (£600 in total)” —(Solicitor, 5 January 2022)

 

She knew I’d already paid £480 plus VAT in December—for the same dispute.

 

But January brought a fresh quote.

 

And my 09:35 email made it clear: my son and I were on the edge.

 

“This is becoming overwhelming now… I do not know what we’re supposed to do anymore.” —Me, 5 January 2022

 

She replied, formally. No urgency. No empathy. Just structure.

 

She mentioned I could limit the work to a single piece of advice, but she didn’t quote a lower fee until I said I couldn’t afford the full £600.

 

Only then did she drop the ask to £240.

 

Not as a favour.

 

As a reaction.

 

She saw I was exhausted—and adjusted the cost not by scope, but by how overwhelmed I was.

 

Practically identical to December’s.

 

Same subject.

 

Same players.

 

Same legal questions.

 

I wasn’t getting new advice.

 

I was being recharged for repetition.

 

Reflection – Legal Advice, Resold as Fresh Clarity

 

She didn’t offer a discount.

She offered the same legal opinion in a repackaged frame.

What changed wasn’t the advice—it was my emotional footing.

When I faltered, the fee flexed.

But the service stayed the same.

Legal expertise shouldn’t behave like surge pricing.

Not when you’re standing on shattered ground.

Still, I paid.

Not because it made sense.

But because both solicitors insisted I was liable—for CPR 35 questions I hadn’t written, hadn’t misled, and wasn’t qualified to interpret.

 

Legal Assessment – Handed Over, Then Monitored

 

The solicitor confirmed:

• Question 6 exceeded CPR 35 scope
• The roof defects required more than “snagging”
• The Defendant’s email didn’t change my expert’s findings

She called it “closure.”

 

And she handed me the legal assessment—not for the Defence, but to pass on to my expert.

 

“I do hope that the above provides you with some clarification… and that your expert will now be able to respond fully…”—(Solicitor I engaged, 6 January 2022)

 

But she didn’t just send advice and disengage.

 

Inset Reflection – Monitoring Without Ownership

 

She didn’t ask me to forward her legal opinion to my expert.

She asked me to send her his response—once he’d issued it to the Defence.

On paper, it sounds procedural.

In context, it felt like she was watching the choreography she’d designed—checking whether he echoed her guidance without owning it publicly.

She had already shaped the rhythm:

• Reframed CPR boundaries as negotiable
• Justified answering a question that didn’t require a reply
• Charged me—twice—for the same off-record sequence

My expert repeated her position almost verbatim.

And closed his reply with her logic.

She wasn’t surprised.

She was tracking it.

It wasn’t collaboration.

 

It was orchestration—with the curtain pulled just far enough to avoid accountability.

And I was expected to play messenger, monitor, funder, and witness to it all.

 

When Certainty Was Used as Proof

 

They didn’t quote law.

They didn’t explain CPR 35.

They didn’t show me any rule that said I was liable for my expert’s defence—or his strength.

They spoke firmly.

Then charged quietly.

One on the record.

One not.

And I stood between them—funding the kind of guidance neither had the courage to give aloud in front of a judge.

“Strictly speaking, the question does go beyond the remit of Part 35… but I don’t believe it would be detrimental for him to answer.” — (The solicitor involved in my case, 6 January 2022)

So, I paid. Again.

Because when you’re trying to hold the case together, you don’t challenge every invoice.

You just pray it leads somewhere safer.

 

What They Said vs What I Was Living

 

4 Jan – Defence solicitor: “I now give notice… I am going to object…”

• I was trying to steady my son while juggling hostile threats

4–6 Jan – Expert: “The roof requires replacement… not snagging”

• I was forwarding documents, manually piecing together responses

5 Jan – Me: “This is becoming overwhelming. My son and I are really on the edge.”

• I was crying at my laptop, wondering if we’d ever see daylight

6 Jan – Solicitor:

“I suggest your expert be advised that he should address the question.”

• I was paying someone to confirm what I already knew wasn’t my fault

10 Jan – Expert:

“I will not be entering into further correspondence. My position is clear.”

• And I was still being copied in. Still held responsible.
• Still trying to carry it all alone.

The Defence Showcase

Letters That Weren’t Just Legal, They Were Loaded

 

Across January 2022, the Defence solicitor didn’t just write letters.

He performed them—each one a blend of arrogance, accusation, and procedural theatre.

4 January 2022 – The Opening Salvo

“I now give notice that… I am going to object to the claimant… having permission to rely upon your evidence.”

• Not a query.
• A threat.
• He cc’d me on every line—turning pressure into performance.
• He implied my expert was obstructive, and I was complicit.

6 January 2022 – The Second Strike

“Contrary to what you have said… you in fact have reviewed pre-action correspondence…”

• He accused my expert of contradiction.
• He reframed the expert’s independence as flawed.
• He suggested I withheld evidence—without proof, without pause.

6 January 2022, 18:46 – The Smug Finale

“You should never have allowed the claimant to tell you not to answer my questions.”

“At the very least you should have sought the Court’s guidance…”

• Arrogance at its peak.
• He didn’t just challenge the expert—he blamed me.
• He implied I’d manipulated the process, despite being a litigant-in-person with no legal training.

What These Letters Reveal

• Tone: Aggressive, self-assured, and dismissive of boundaries
• Strategy: Shift blame, provoke response, and destabilise the claimant
• Impact: Most people would have crumbled. I documented.

Final Reflection

When Arrogance Masquerades as Authority

 

These weren’t letters.

They were scripts for control.

And by showcasing them here, I’ve stripped them of their power.

 

They don’t intimidate anymore.

They illuminate.  

February 2022

 

 Correspondence, Control, and Composure

 

While our roof held rain, my inbox held pressure.

 

My solicitor charged fees.

 

The Defence solicitor staged tactics.

 

And my home was about to become a battleground—on paper first, and soon in person.

Site Visits Were Never Just About Surveying

 

On 22 February, the Defence solicitor wrote:

 

“…we will want a private consultation (that is to say obviously neither yourself or your son can be present or be within an earshot).” —Defence solicitor, 22 February 2022

 

This wasn’t standard procedure.

 

It was exclusion, dressed as professionalism.

 

And later emails confirmed exactly what I feared:

 

He intended to use my home as a staging ground—not for one surveyor, but for multiple contractors employed by the Defendant.

 

Several of them had previously threatened and intimidated both me and my son inside that very space.

 

His language wasn’t protective.

 

It was presumptive.

 

A tone that said:

 

“I will do as I please. You will comply.”

 

But this wasn’t about inspections.

 

It was about eviction—without process.

 

Not Court-approved.

 

Not legally authorised.

 

Just a solicitor issuing informal orders to remove us from our own home.

It wasn’t oversight.

 

It was occupation—planned via email. 

 

My Solicitor Was Helpful—but Hesitant

 

While emergency shaped real life—my dad’s head injury, my sister—his main carer—hospitalised, my son emotionally frayed—I still managed to flag the implications in the Defence solicitor’s wording.

 

The solicitor I engaged responded promptly.

 

But her interpretation softened the blow:

 

“I believe his reference to inspection… is for his own Surveyor, not for him and the Defendant to attend.” - (Solicitor, 7 February 2022)

 

That wasn’t what the Defence solicitor wrote.

 

And the tone wasn’t imagined.

 

It was unmistakable.

 

Still, I wasn’t told to challenge it—just to note it.

 

Her advice was clear.

 

Her fee reminder clearer:

 

“Going forward, I am currently without funds on account of costs…” —Solicitor, 7 February 2022

 

ADR Was Never Refused. Just Rewritten as Resistance

 

Throughout February, the Defence solicitor framed his client’s settlement offer as benevolence, and my response as avoidance.

 

But the record showed otherwise.

 

On 21 February, I confirmed:

 

“You are fully aware we have never refused or indicated that we would not engage in ADR…” —Me, 21 February 2022

 

His reply?

 

“You yourself have not made any form of offer to settle…”

 

“We are reaching a stage… where significant costs will be incurred.”

 

“You will also appreciate… if you fail to beat his Part 36 offer…” — (Defence solicitor, 21 February 2022)

 

Each line walked the line between procedure and pressure.

I didn’t raise my voice.

 

I raised the record.

 

Final Reflection – February Was My Turning Point

 

I didn’t have time to write long emails.

Only time to read them.

And in every phrase from exclusion, to cost threat.

 

Witnessing Procedural Performance

I saw exactly what was happening.

 

The claim wasn’t just about bricks.

It was about power.

 

And I wasn’t just under-resourced.

I was being positioned to fail, politely.

 

But I didn’t fail. I documented.

And that’s why this chapter sits not as reaction—but as record.

 

March 2022

 

 When Transparency Was Met with Distance

 

I gave her everything.

 

Not just documents.

 

But trust.

 

Context.

 

Payment.

 

And a clear request:

 

Help us prepare.

 

“I am unsure as to why you have provided me with copy correspondence passing between yourself, your expert and the Defence solicitor, as I believe I have already had sight of the same and, indeed, the letter from your expert to the Defence solicitor dated 6 January 2022 was prepared following my advice letter to you in respect of the medical evidence.” —Solicitor, 3 March 2022.

 

I replied:

 

“With this latest matter centring around expert evidence, I thought it may be of benefit to you… my apologies, I should have asked you if you needed copies.” — (Me, 4 March 2022)

 

She said she was unsure.

 

But she also confirmed she’d seen the emails before.

 

And more than that—she’d shaped them.

 

Her advice formed the backbone of my expert’s reply.

 

So, he wasn’t unfamiliar with the case.

 

She was acknowledging her role while simultaneously retreating from it.

 

And the timing mattered.

 

Just one day earlier—2 March—I received official court notice:

The hearing was set for 16 May 2022.

 

She knew the date.

 

She knew the evidence.

 

She’d been paid.

 

She’d offered herself or the barrister to represent us.

 

But as the case advanced, she began to dilute her involvement—

One line at a time.

 

So yes, she said she was confused.

 

But her own email shows clarity.

 

And my email shows courtesy.

 

It wasn’t chaos.

 

It was caution.

 

I was the archivist.

 

The tracker.

 

The one writing it down—while others hoped it wouldn’t be remembered.

 

Where my attempts to resolve were recast as refusal

 &

Pressure came dressed as fairness.

 

I spent April trying to settle — not surrender.

 

But every offer I made was treated like provocation.

 

Every compromise, like strategy.

 

I wasn’t dodging resolution.

 

I was trying to reach it — without being buried by it.

 

And every door I opened led to the same thing:

 

More accusation.

More distortion.

More pressure.

 

The Part 36 That Wasn’t “Genuine” Enough

 

On 1 April, my solicitor helped me clarify the settlement terms I’d proposed on 31 March.

 

I sent that clarification to the Defence solicitor on 4 April.

 

Within hours, he pounced:

 

“I do not consider [your] Part 36 offer… to be a valid offer/genuine offer to settle.”

 — (Defence solicitor, 4 April 2022 WITHOUT PREJUDICE SAVE AS TO COSTS).

 

Why?

He added my offer to his counterclaim, inflated the total, and positioned it as a defeat.

 

Not acceptance. Not compromise. Just fuel for costs punishment.

 

Even my solicitor quietly disagreed.

 

She advised: Hold the line. Stay open to ADR. Challenge the framing.

 

When “I’m Open to ADR” Became “You’re Not Cooperating”

 

“We are happy to consider ADR and await your proposals.”

— (Me, 11 April 2022).

 

His reply? Another twist:

 

“Your [so-called] Part 36 offer… is not a legitimate and genuine offer.”

 

“You are not genuinely engaging in ADR.” — (Defence solicitor, 11 April 2022 WITHOUT PREJUDICE SAVE AS TO COSTS).

 

His “invitation”?

 

Speak directly with him by phone

• Or attend mediation — but only if we split the fee

I declined the phone call. Not from avoidance, but protection.

 

His written tone was adversarial.

 

His tactics — unrecorded, unwitnessed, unregulated.

 

Instead, I proposed telephone mediation, backed by a legal representative.

 

My solicitor agreed to act on our behalf.

 

He ignored it.

 

Because it wasn’t dialogue he wanted.

 

It was dominance.

 

So, I replied — calmly, firmly:

 

“Our offer is… made in a genuine attempt to achieve settlement.”

 

“If you are happy, I will instruct a solicitor to arrange without prejudice discussions on our behalf.”

— (Me, 14 April 2022).

 

The Letter That Wasn’t a Letter — It Was a Warning

 

On 29 April, he delivered a payload masked as peace.

 

Addressed to my son and me. Framed as dialogue.

 

Written like surrender terms.

 

He repeated the June 2021 “£8,000 offer” —

 

But with a catch: a £4,800 counterclaim deduction.

 

Actual offer? £3,200.

• Claimed it was generous
• Forecast indemnity costs
• Asserted we unlawfully terminated the contract
• Omitted the fact that the contractor left the site violently on 4 June, slamming a hammer into our kitchen worktop

Consumer helpline confirmed I had every right to terminate.

 

But fear, not doubt, delayed the decision.

 

He later blamed us for the breakdown —

 

Despite ignoring every mediation proposal we made.

 

“My client is offering to reduce the costs you will owe him to just 75%… it’s a concession you should consider carefully.”

—Letter via Defence solicitor, 29 April 2022

 

But I don’t owe his client anything.

 

That wasn’t negotiation.

 

That was presumption.

 

“He spoke as if the outcome was guaranteed, the costs inevitable, and the Court already on side.

 

What unsettled me wasn’t just the claim — it was how quickly it started to sound like truth.”

 

Deadline: 4pm, 11 May.

 

I wasn’t resisting.

 

I was still listening.

 

Still absorbing threats I hadn’t earned.

 

What I Was Actually Doing in April

• Clarifying terms with my solicitor
• Re-confirming ADR openness — multiple times
• Offering solicitor-led settlement talks
• Requesting help for a Joint Settlement Meeting
• Paying another £480 for advice
• Caring for my son
• Protecting my father from COVID
• Managing it all — while they said I wasn’t “genuine”
• While they were stacking assumptions,
• I was stacking evidence.

This Wasn’t Negotiation. It Was Narrative Control.

• I made a sincere offer
• I asked for ADR

And they still painted me as unreasonable.

 

Why?

 

I backed it with actions.

 

Because I expected fairness.

 

Because I still believed someone might engage — not perform.

 

They weren’t negotiating with me.

 

They were negotiating around me.

 

The Representation That Came with Conditions

 

On 28 April, my solicitor drew her boundary:

 

“I do not propose to prepare a bundle for the Hearing on 16 May 2022. I will simply attend the Hearing and make representations on your behalf as appropriate.”

 

“I will not be sending any documentation to the Court in advance of the Hearing unless you specifically instruct me to do so.”

 

She wasn’t just hedging — she was withholding.

 

Not because the material wasn’t ready.

 

But because she didn’t want to be seen as fully involved.

 

Closing Reflection

 

I gave her everything.

But what I received was distance.

 

I offered clarity.

But what I met was caution.

 

I wasn’t confused.

I was preparing.

 

She wasn’t unfamiliar.

She was retreating.

 

And the hearing date was set.

But the support was already shrinking.

 

These last three months didn’t bring resolution.

It brought dilution.

 

The record was clear.

But the representation was conditional.

 

The next page holds more confusion and  pressure.

 

 

 

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