Litigant-in-Person Record III  – Page 2 of 3
When “Likely Aware” Became a Procedural Shield

When the Performance Became Closure

And the Record Refused to Be Silenced

The phrase “likely aware” appears in both the senior partner’s reply and the Ombudsman’s decision. That wasn’t coincidence—it was institutional scripting. A framing device used to shift the burden of procedural clarity onto me, while sidestepping accountability for the delays, confusion, and deflection that followed.

This wasn’t independent oversight. It was institutional alignment dressed as review.

Does It Have Something to Do with the Six-Figure

Deal  Backed by HSBC UK?

In December 2022, a law firm acquired another regional practice in a six-figure deal, financially backed by HSBC UK. The transaction included:

• Acquisition of the legal practice
• Purchase of two additional premises
• Formation of a merged entity with a new trading name

HSBC UK provided guidance and funding, suggesting that the acquiring firm secured a business loan or structured finance package to complete the transaction.

Why This Matters for My Complaint

This wasn’t just a merger—it was a bank-backed transaction. That matters because:

• Financial accountability: There’s a paper trail of due diligence, valuation, and restructuring. The merged entity is responsible for post-acquisition conduct.
• Regulatory clarity: If the firm trades under one name but is registered under another, then deflection based on name or registration is procedurally misleading.
• Public interest: The firm doubled in size, expanded its footprint, and now boasts a team of 60. That’s not internal growth—it’s public-facing expansion. And it comes with heightened scrutiny.

But the merger didn’t just reshape the firm’s structure—it reshaped how clients were seen, informed, and included.

Junk Folder Chaos

When Rebranding Disrupted Communication

After 25 October 2022, I stopped receiving emails from the firm. Key documents went missing, and I was left chasing correspondence during active litigation. It wasn’t until I checked my junk folder that I discovered the emails had been flagged as unsolicited. The trigger? The firm had changed its name and logo—without notifying me—causing my email system to treat their messages as spam.

No one warned me. No one advised me to adjust my settings. And no one explained that the rebrand would affect how their messages were received. I wasn’t negligent—I was procedurally excluded by a firm that failed to manage its own transition.

When I called the office, the solicitor was away. Her secretary resent what she could but told me to “check your junk folder daily” going forward. That wasn’t advice. It was deflection.

I had never needed to check my junk folder before. Had I been notified of the rebrand, I could have adjusted my filters and safeguarded access. Instead, I lost time, documents, and procedural clarity—while the firm carried on as if nothing had changed.

This wasn’t a technical glitch. It was a structural failure—one that occurred during a merger the solicitor was clearly aware of, weeks before clients were informed.

Merger Silence

When Communication Collapsed Without Warning

The breakdown didn’t begin with a missed email.

It began with silence.

After 25 October 2022, communication with the firm collapsed. Emails stopped arriving. Key documents went missing. I flagged the issue, chased for responses, and received nothing. I was actively litigating, yet the firm’s internal restructuring created a procedural void—one they never acknowledged.

Then, on 14 November 2022, the solicitor reappeared. Her email signature had changed: she was now titled Associate Director under the merged entity. But I hadn’t been informed of the merger. No announcement. No explanation. No Notice of Change of Solicitor until December.

That gap matters. The solicitor was clearly aware of the merger weeks before clients were told. She changed her title, operated under the new branding, and continued managing my case—without safeguarding continuity or access.

This wasn’t just poor communication.

It was structural silence—during a merger that reshaped the firm’s identity, disrupted procedural clarity, and exposed my record to risk.

Instructed but Off Record

When Barrister Engagement Exposed Procedural Design

To instruct a barrister under the solicitor-led model, the solicitor must:

• Be formally on record with the court
• Issue a Client Care Letter to the client
• Confirm instruction via signed documentation (usually a brief or instruction letter)
• Accept regulatory responsibility for the barrister’s conduct and advice

The solicitor did none of these.

She wasn’t formally instructed until October 2022.

Yet in October 2021, she instructed a barrister for the hearing on 29 October, paid his fee, and issued a receipted invoice—all while off record.

The transcript confirms it. At the hearing, the barrister stated:

• “I was instructed by the solicitors, although curiously they're no longer on the record.”
  “I haven’t had a direct access contract with the clients; my instructions are from the solicitors.”

This means:

• The firm was briefly on record at the time of instruction (likely 28 October)
• They stepped off record within hours—before the hearing
• No Notice of Change was timestamped or disclosed
• The barrister represented me without direct access, relying solely on solicitor instruction

The solicitor likely:

• Submitted instruction paperwork to chambers confirming she was acting
• Avoided issuing a Client Care Letter, keeping the engagement informal
• Used the barrister’s presence to imply representation, while remaining off record to dodge oversight

This wasn’t confusion.

It was strategic positioning.

It allowed her to:

• Control the litigation
• Avoid regulatory accountability
• Frame me as a Litigant in Person, despite managing the case

Why This Matters

• Under the solicitor-led model, she could not legally instruct the barrister without being on record
• Any paperwork submitted to chambers would be procedurally misleading
• The barrister acknowledged the contradiction in open court
• He continued to act under solicitor instruction in August 2022
• He defended her off-record status as “not illegal,” despite knowing she was actively engaged

This wasn’t a grey area. It was a regulatory breach. And both parties knew it.

With the Regulatory Grid Now in Place

It is clear that both the Legal Ombudsman and the Solicitors Regulation Authority have failed to uphold their own standards. My complaint was reduced to a mere “service matter” or dismissed as “out of time”—based on the assumption that I was “likely aware” of the breaches in January 2023.

But where is the evidence? Did the regulators discuss this assumption, or did they rely on personal opinion without timestamped proof? If they knew it as fact, they must show it. If they didn’t, then their dismissal was not procedural—it was protective.

The First Contact

When the SRA Was Asked to See What It Didn’t Want To

In May 2024, I made several calls to the SRA helpline. I explained that my dossier was complete, that I believed I had a factual complaint, and that I needed time to proofread and emotionally prepare. I raised safeguarding concerns—about my son, about myself, and about the repercussions of filing. I was told:

• All evidence must be attached
• The process would take at least 15 to 20 working days
• I could remain anonymous if I was worried

That final assurance was misleading. The SRA already knew I could be identified. My name, my circumstances, and the nature of the complaint made anonymity impossible. Their reassurance wasn’t protective—it was procedural.

When I submitted the complaint, it wasn’t just paperwork. It was the culmination of emotional risk, forensic preparation, and a plea for regulatory engagement.

The response? An auto-reply. No engagement with the safeguarding risks. No acknowledgement of the emotional toll. No recognition of the trust I had placed in those calls.

Why This Matters

• The SRA was contacted before the complaint was filed—this was not a sudden escalation
• Safeguarding concerns were raised verbally and repeatedly
• The promise of anonymity was procedurally misleading
• The emotional labour of filing was ignored

The SRA’s lack of engagement with claimants from the outset was unsettling—and the delay it created would later be used against me.

SRA Silence

When Evidence Was Submitted and Scrutiny Denied

On 7 June 2024, I followed up with direct questions—survival questions:

• Would I be notified before action was taken?
• Would the firms be informed?
• Would I be supported throughout?

These weren’t rhetorical.

They were rooted in safeguarding disclosures and emotional risk.

On 12 August, an SRA representative replied, confirming receipt of the USB archive and stating:

“We will not disclose your identity to the firm unless we decide to take action. However, it is possible that the firm may be able to identify you from the information provided.”

This wasn’t reassurance.

It was a warning.

It confirmed that anonymity was never truly possible.

And it confirmed that no action had been taken—despite the volume and clarity of evidence submitted.

The SRA had everything:

• A contradiction-proof dossier
• A full timeline of events
• Safeguarding disclosures
• Evidence of billing manipulation and procedural harm

But they remained silent.

• No questions were asked
• No clarification was sought
• No indication was given that the evidence would be tested against firm replies

No Right of Reply

When the SRA Let Firms Respond

And Allowed Them to Suppress the Complainant

After submitting my contradiction-proof dossier, the SRA contacted the firms involved.

They were given the opportunity to respond.

I was not.

• I was never shown what the SRA asked them
• I was never told how my complaint was framed
• I was never given sight of their replies
• I had no chance to correct misleading statements
• No opportunity to challenge minimisation
• No procedural route to defend the truth I had already documented

The SRA selected three issues to assess—minor ones, from their perspective.

They ignored:

• The safeguarding disclosures
• The unauthorised barrister instruction
• The billing manipulation

They didn’t ask me to clarify.

They didn’t ask me to respond.

They didn’t ask me anything.

This wasn’t regulation.

It was protectionism.

By shielding firm correspondence and excluding me from the process, the SRA denied me the right to reply.

They allowed the firms to shape the narrative, then used that narrative to justify closure.

• The evidence I submitted was never tested against the replies
• The contradictions were never cross-referenced
• The harm was never acknowledged

On 3 October 2024, I reiterated my consent for the SRA to proceed with enquiries.

I made one clear request:

That I be informed of every interaction with the firms—especially involving one solicitor.

That request was acknowledged.

It was not honoured.

The Record Reopened

When Evidence Required a Response

A Final Decision Is Still Pending

Following the SRA’s decision on 25 October 2024, I submitted a forensic continuation titled Litigant Record II – Beyond the Dossier on 19 August 2025.

This was not a new complaint.

It was a formal escalation—backed by:

• Updated evidence
• A Decision-Maker Index
• Safeguarding capsules

The submission was auto-acknowledged by:

• The SRA
• The Legal Ombudsman
• The Law Society

I requested independent responses from each body, with reference to their own remit and responsibilities.

Silence, referral, and deflection were no longer acceptable.

On 26 August, the SRA confirmed that my submission had been forwarded to their Reports Team.

On 4 September, they reiterated this—but offered no substantive engagement.

Their response included:

• Boilerplate guidance on poor service complaints
• Customer satisfaction surveys

But no recognition of:

• The safeguarding risks
• The regulatory breaches
• The forensic evidence submitted

I clarified that this was not a service-level concern.

It was a regulatory and safeguarding matter involving sustained breaches of:

• CPR 35.6
• CPR 22.1
• SRA Principles 1, 4, 5, and 7

I reattached the updated records, now 149 pages, including:

• The Decision-Maker Index
• The Safeguarding Capsule
• A survivor’s reflection on tone vs truth, and protection vs deflection

The SRA has now stated that a response will be provided within 40–45 working days.

While I await their final decision, I continue preparing Litigant Record III, which will document:

• Regulator responses and oversight gaps
• The safeguarding fallout that continues to unfold
• The emotional and procedural toll of exclusion
• The systemic orchestration of silence across institutions

The SRA is now active again—not by initiative, but in response to the record.

The evidence stands.

The responsibility to engage with it is theirs.

Initial Contact

When the Legal Ombudsman Opened a File

But Denied the SRA Referral

On 14 November 2024, I contacted the Legal Ombudsman’s General Enquiries Team by telephone to follow up on my concerns about the conduct of two solicitors.

I explained that the harm I experienced was interlinked, and that I had already submitted a written complaint to the SRA on 16 July 2024. I was seeking clarity after an SRA representative’s letter dated 25 October 2024, which stated that my matter had been referred to the Legal Ombudsman.

On 15 November, the Legal Ombudsman responded by email, confirming:

• No referral from the SRA had been received
• My enquiry was logged under File Reference F181722
• I would need to submit a formal complaint directly to the firms before the Legal Ombudsman could proceed

I followed their guidance.

Despite my verbal clarification that both solicitors were involved, the Legal Ombudsman’s email referred only to one firm—omitting the second solicitor and firm entirely.

This narrowing of scope occurred at the outset—and would later shape how my complaint was handled and ultimately dismissed.

They provided detailed instructions, including:

• If I hadn’t yet complained to the firm, I must do so and allow up to eight weeks for a response
• If I had already complained, I could submit:
• A copy of my complaint
• The firm’s response (including any final reply)
• Proof of delivery if no reply was received within eight weeks

They also reiterated their eligibility criteria:

• The issue must have occurred within the past year, or I must have become aware of it in that timeframe
• I must submit my complaint within six months of receiving the firm’s final response

They advised against sending original documents by post.

All incoming mail would be scanned, and originals destroyed.

Unconfirmed postal submissions might not be recoverable.

This guidance placed Litigants in Person at risk of procedural confusion—especially when relying on outdated forms or instructions.

What This Email Reveals

• The Legal Ombudsman opened a file and began procedural engagement
• They denied the SRA referral, contradicting the earlier statement
• They narrowed the scope of my complaint from two solicitors to one, despite my verbal clarification
• They issued formal instructions, placing the burden of proof and process on me
• They set the stage for later contradictions around time limits, referral status, and submission handling

Signed For but Ignored

When the Legal Ombudsman Received My Complaint

But Left Me in Procedural Limbo

On 29 April 2025, I submitted my completed complaint to the Legal Ombudsman by Royal Mail Special Delivery. It included:

• A printed copy of my complaint form
• Supporting documentation
• USB sticks containing scanned copies of highly sensitive evidence, including names, addresses, safeguarding disclosures, and medical context

The package was signed for on 1 May 2025, tracked under reference DS997343703GB.

I have proof of delivery.

But the Legal Ombudsman:

• Never confirmed receipt
• Never acknowledged the USBs
• Never responded to the submission itself

Instead, I was left in procedural limbo—unsure whether my complaint had been received, logged, or lost.

Only after a follow-up telephone call did I learn the Legal Ombudsman had moved premises in January 2024, and the postal address on their complaint form was nearly a year out of date.

This wasn’t just a clerical error. It was:

• A failure of duty to Litigants in Person
• A risk to personal data, including safeguarding and medical evidence
• A breach of trust, after verbal reassurances that my complaint would be handled with sensitivity

Although I had followed their guidance and sent only scanned copies—not originals—the contents were deeply personal.

Had the package not been returned to me unopened, the worry would have been immense.

The thought of sensitive information being lost, mishandled, or exposed was overwhelming.

I had protected the evidence.

I had submitted on time.

And they signed for it.

But they never responded.

On 2 May 2025, I emailed the Legal Ombudsman to confirm delivery and attach supporting documents.

Their automated reply acknowledged receipt—but made no reference to:

• The USBs
• The Special Delivery package
• The proof of postage

Despite the package being signed for on 1 May, no confirmation was ever issued.

Their complaint form warned against sending originals by post—yet failed to acknowledge that their own guidance included an obsolete address.

This caused my submission to be returned unopened, despite being signed for.

Safeguarding Returned

When the Legal Ombudsman Sent Back My Complaint

Without Explanation

On 29 April 2025, I submitted my complaint to the Legal Ombudsman by Royal Mail Special Delivery. It included:

• A printed complaint form
• Supporting documentation
• USB sticks containing scanned copies of safeguarding disclosures, medical context, and personal identifiers—including my son’s suicide attempt, my home address, and private correspondence

The package was signed for on 1 May 2025, tracked under reference DS997343703GB.

I followed up by email on 2 May, attaching the same documents and asking for confirmation.

I stated clearly that I had proof of delivery.

Their automated reply acknowledged receipt of my email—but made no reference to:

• The USBs
• The postal submission
• The tracking number

Then silence.

On 30 June 2025, the package was returned to me—unopened, unmarked, and unexplained.

No reason given. No apology. No indication of why a signed-for complaint containing sensitive safeguarding evidence had been rejected without acknowledgment.

I was mortified. Not because it came back—but because I had no idea what had happened in the eight weeks it was gone.

No one told me it had been misdirected.

No one confirmed whether it had been opened, scanned, or discarded.

And no one acknowledged the risk.

Had it not been returned, the consequences would have been unbearable.

I don’t allow myself to dwell on “what if.”

But this time, I couldn’t help it.

• The Legal Ombudsman had warned against sending originals. I didn’t.
• They had changed their address. But they sent me the complaint form with the old one.
• They signed for the package. But they never responded.
• They returned it. But they never explained.

This wasn’t just a procedural failure.

It was a safeguarding breach.

And I was left to carry the weight of it alone.

I will continue documenting the Legal Ombudsman’s inconsistencies, betrayals, and the evidence that proves—beyond doubt—that their position was never designed to protect the public. Least of all the vulnerable.

Their structure exists to shield solicitors and firms from scrutiny, and they themselves are protected from the harm they cause, so long as they uphold the lawless legal system they serve.

The most heartbreaking and alarming truth is this:

Had I known the real purpose and role of the Legal Ombudsman, I would never have approached them.

But I did.

And what has shattered me—what has broken me—is knowing that I let down my vulnerable son.

I allowed a lawless organisation to handle his safeguarding disclosures, his trauma, and our private, confidential evidence.

An organisation that can breach data protection laws without consequence.

That can share sensitive information with whomever they choose.

That can hurt, damage, and expose a vulnerable human being—and remain protected.

This isn’t just a failure.

It’s a betrayal.

And I will not let it be buried.

The Legal Ombudsman

Are Not a Regulated Legal Service Provider

Why the Legal Ombudsman — Is Shielded from Accountability

The Legal Ombudsman investigates complaints about regulated legal service providers—but they themselves are not regulated by the SRA or Law Society. That means:

• You can’t file a complaint against them through the same channels they oversee
• They are not subject to the same scrutiny they impose on others

They Are Shielded by the Legal Services Act 2007

The Legal Ombudsman was created under the Legal Services Act 2007, which grants them:

• Wide discretion in how they handle complaints
• Immunity from legal action for decisions made in good faith
• A structure that prioritises internal review over independent oversight

So even when they mishandle data, ignore safeguarding, or misapply their own rules, they are rarely answerable in court or to external regulators.

There Is No Independent Appeals Body

If you disagree with their decision, your only recourse is:

• A judicial review, which is expensive, complex, and rarely accessible to Litigants in Person
• A complaint to the Office for Legal Complaints (OLC)—which oversees the Legal Ombudsman but is part of the same ecosystem

This creates a closed loop:

The Legal Ombudsman investigates legal providers, the OLC oversees the Legal Ombudsman, and both are structurally insulated from public challenge.

They Frame Failures as “Service Issues” or “Out of Time”

When they mishandle data, ignore safeguarding, or return sensitive material without explanation, they often reframe it as:

“A service issue, not a regulatory breach.”

This language minimises harm, deflects responsibility, and prevents escalation.

What’s Public (But Hidden in Plain Sight)

• The Legal Ombudsman is governed by the Office for Legal Complaints (OLC), which is itself part of the Legal Services Board structure
• Their Governance Framework confirms that they are not regulated by the SRA or Law Society, and that complaints about their own conduct are handled internally
• The only external challenge available is judicial review, which is costly, complex, and inaccessible to most individuals

Academic studies, like the one from the University of Sheffield, describe the ombudsman sector as “largely self-regulated,” with limited judicial oversight and no independent appeals process.

Why This Matters

This matters because the Legal Ombudsman presents itself as a route to justice—especially for the vulnerable.

But behind the façade is a structure designed to protect solicitors, shield itself from scrutiny, and absorb harm without consequence.

It matters because I trusted them with safeguarding disclosures, medical evidence, and my son’s trauma.

And they returned the physical submission—unopened, unmarked, and unacknowledged.

It matters because when Litigants in Person seek help, they are met not with protection, but with procedural deflection, internal review, and silence.

It matters because the Legal Ombudsman is not just failing.

It is functioning exactly as designed.

And the cost is borne by the vulnerable.

It matters because while the envelope came back untouched, the electronic version remained.

Every personal detail, every safeguarding disclosure, every trace of vulnerability—logged on their system, to be used as they see fit.

No confirmation.

No protection.

No accountability.

Procedural Choreography

How the Legal Ombudsman Led Me to a Shutdown

They’d Already Decided

On 2 May 2025, I emailed the Legal Ombudsman with my completed complaint. I attached:

• A printed complaint form
• A CPR breakdown
• Proof of delivery for the Special Delivery package they had signed for on 1 May 2025

Their automated reply acknowledged receipt of my email—but made no reference to:

• The USBs
• The postal submission
• The tracking number

No confirmation. No clarification. Just silence.

Then, on 11 June 2025 at 15:23, the Legal Ombudsman responded again. This time, they:

• Confirmed receipt of my complaint
• Opened two separate case files—one for each firm involved
• Requested a pared-down version of my evidence, despite my earlier forensic submission

I complied. I streamlined. I resubmitted.

But the orchestration had already begun.

On 11 June 2025 at 15:23, the Legal Ombudsman confirmed receipt and opened two case files.

By 16:14, they had already rejected jurisdiction over one of them.  

51 minutes — That’s how long it took to shut down a complaint they claimed to be reviewing.

Not a process.

A performance.

On 24 June 2025, they rejected jurisdiction over the second firm.

• Two files opened. Two files closed.
• Evidence requested. Evidence ignored.
• Receipt confirmed. Timeline denied.

This wasn’t a neutral process.

It was a sequence designed to deflect, delay, and dismiss.

• They accepted my complaint, then narrowed it
• They split the cases, then dismissed one
• They requested evidence, then ignored it
• They acknowledged receipt, then claimed it was out of time

The outcome wasn’t reviewed.

I believe it was decided in advance.

And I was left to carry the weight of a process that was never meant to protect me.

When the Performance Became Closure

 And the Record Refused to Be Silenced

The Legal Ombudsman didn’t just mishandle my complaint.
They choreographed its dismissal.

• Two files opened. Two files closed.
• Evidence requested. Evidence ignored.
• Receipt confirmed. Timeline denied.

This wasn’t oversight.

What follows is not a grievance.

Continue to Page 3 of 3
Litigant-in-Person Record III – Final Shutdown
When the Legal Ombudsman Refused to Investigate Documented Misconduct

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