What’s the best way to attend a wedding? There must be a better way if, like me, you don’t particularly enjoy getting poshed up all day, making small talk with people you barely know, sitting ramrod-straight and getting up and down throughout the ceremony. Then of course you can virtually guarantee you will have the worst table by the kitchen at the wedding breakfast and like it or not you will put your foot in it, somehow with somebody, after a few drinks.

Do you ever wonder what it would be like to attend a wedding and not go through all that rigmarole, to just relax all the way through?  Especially during the best part: when you see the bride come down the aisle to be given away by her parents, about to start a new life with her partner.

This Monday I “attended” just such a beautiful wedding and, I think, in the best possible way! Let me explain…

It was 6 pm and the sun was setting behind the pale honey walls of the Old City of Jerusalem as Mount Scopus lay in the distance. I was standing high up on the balcony of our hotel watching a wedding scene taking place on the terrace below.  I could see the hustle and bustle of lorries and cars still thronging up the hill beyond as they entered the Old City through the Jaffa Gate. Alongside the gate stands King David Tower and there were still lots of tourists walking around the old Roman walls during this cooler part of the day.  I could see churches, synagogues and mosques spread across the city on rolling hills. Somewhere in the distance out of view is the Western Wall, all that remains of the Jewish Temple destroyed by the Romans in 70 AD and which stood on Temple Mount, the holiest place in Judaism. The wedding below me was taking place under a canopy facing towards the Western Wall.

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Cuts to family law legal aid, prenuptial agreements, Tchenguiz v Imerman… Regular readers will have noted that I hold some strong views about the latest family law developments and their implications for divorcing couples up and down the country. So when Solicitors Journal invited me to contribute an editorial about the “key issues facing family lawyers right now”, the biggest challenge was to fit everything within my allocated column inches! You may be pleased to hear that this family law blog gets a mention.

Justices are fiddling with top-dollar divorces while normal families burn, says Marilyn Stowe

I have never known a summer like this one. For a family lawyer it is like standing in no man’s land, with the ‘haves’ on one side and the ‘have nots’ on the other. In more than 25 years I have never seen family law riven by such manifest inequality.

At the height of the holiday season, the Legal Services Commission (LSC) has slashed the number of firms offering family law legal aid by 46 per cent – from 2,400 to just 1,300. Pity the legal aid family lawyer now returning from a hard-earned summer break. The charter flight was probably delayed; the lawyer was probably laden down with kids and suitcases. They get up early to go into the office and face the correspondence that always arrives when you are away. But this time that correspondence is far, far worse: the lawyer has been thrown out of a job.

The LSC is putting lawyers out of business with the swing of an axe, while telling the media that it is “putting quality of services above cost”. I am pleased that the public is not buying this glib argument. The truth is that for clients, particularly those from less well off or disadvantaged backgrounds, justice has suddenly become less accessible than it was. Now it will be about having the means, while an already overloaded service collapses into meltdown. In the meantime, how many tragedies will there be?  Continue reading»

As previously noted, many first-time visitors to this blog arrive here after typing their questions about divorce and family law directly into Google and other search engines. I also receive a number of reader enquiries via the comments section and the Contact Me page.

If you are a reader with a question about divorce and you would like a swift answer, join me on The Times website tomorrow (Thursday 29 July) for a Live Q&A during which I’ll be answering questions about all aspects of family law and finance.

If you prefer, you can submit your question in advance by adding it to the comments section on the website’s Live Q&A page. (The Times website is subscription-only, but can currently be accessed for £1 for 30 days.)

You can access the Live Q&A here. I will answer any question that you have, no matter how big or how small, so ask away!

UPDATE: it was a lively Q&A and you can view it here.

A client recently paid me a very kind but rather unusual compliment.

“Every time I see you”, she said, “you smile at me – and it isn’t just any old smile, but a bright, confident one.”

Apparently my smile brightens her day and does wonders for both her confidence and her hopes for her case.

How nice is that? Apparently I was a smiley baby – and I have been smiling at people ever since. I always used to smile at people when I was a runner. In Yorkshire, my fellow runners always smiled back. Mind you, in London I used to get startled looks in response – and in New York I was stared at like I was a weirdo! So no more smiles there then…

The client’s comments made my day and gave me pause for thought, especially as she went on to add that she recently stopped going to a particular dentist because although the dentist was undoubtedly competent, she never, ever smiled. My client said that she always left the dentist feeling tense and sometimes miserable, not because of the treatment but because of the unsmiling dentist’s terse manner. I know the dentist to whom she was referring and I agree that she gives the impression of being overly serious. However I am equally certain that the dentist would be shocked and horrified if she knew that people thought of her in such a way.

I was thinking about this yesterday as I was having a mug of coffee, relaxing after cycling a record (for me) 30 km on the Wattbike and throwing 16 kg kettlebells some 120 times!  I was reading about the presenter Selina Scott’s latest complaint against the BBC, whom she accuses of “blatant and sometimes malign ageism and sexism. I don’t agree. Continue reading »

As a family lawyer, I like to think there is no dispute for which a solution cannot be found. No matter how polarised the clients are, and no matter how contrasting their arguments may be, at some point their disputes can and will be resolved.

This week at Stowe Family Law, for example, our children lawyers have been especially busy. We have been instructed in a number of contact and residence disputes.  Trying to conciliate the parents’ disputes, bringing them together peaceably for the sake of their children, can be challenging work – and these are challenges that our children lawyers face day in, day out. As you can imagine, they often encounter hostility and intransigence – but they never give up.  Our children’s department seems to have endless patience and sufficient stamina to keep plugging away. They seek to obtain resolutions to disputes, which may include where the children will live, sometimes the country in which the children will live, the time that each parent will spend with the children and so on. In children cases, the children’s welfare – not the parents’ – is paramount.

Every month, I review every client’s file. I am checking the legal content, but files can also begin to resemble serialised novels, with new instalments monthly. I am often anxious to know whether one case or another has been resolved – and if so, on what terms. Some cases settle and I am able to read the terms of the deal. Others continue, destined perhaps for court, but more likely edging towards settlements. Those cases reaching a full-blown hearing are likely to involve very difficult issues, such as mental illness or allegations of abuse. A judge may have to decide where a child should live and whether a child should see a parent at all.  Fortunately such cases are rare. The majority of cases feature polarised parents who begin at different ends of the spectrum and end up somewhere in the middle.

This week, however, the most unpleasant case of polarisation that I encountered had nothing to do with a child dispute. In fact, it involved a group of people with whom I have had few dealings before now. They are travellers, living on a site in Essex. By chance, I met some of them this week. Continue reading »

Over the past couple of weeks, the legal press has been buzzing with news of the demise of Halliwells, a large firm of solicitors based in Manchester. I was saddened to read about the firm’s fate. However I have been horrified by some of the accompanying press commentary, which includes one piece headlined Halliwells: Dangerous Ambition. Why pick over others’ setbacks and dashed hopes with such glee, as if they were fresh bones? Who does that serve?

In Halliwells’ case, it would seem that the firm’s relocation to the expensive Spinningfields development in Manchester, which attracted a substantial reverse premium, is somehow supposed to remove any sympathy for the firm’s fate. I disagree: this recession is unlike any other since the Great Depression of the 1930s, and many UK firms and businesses have been “caught out” by its size and scale. Halliwells isn’t alone. Others – from corporations and small business to individuals – have suffered too.

It is the human side of the story that saddens me most of all. It is all too easy to overlook the fact that juggernaut firms, including those with juggernaut debts, are made up of people who have lives to lead outside of their busy working weeks. They have families, and they have responsibilities. The trappings of a middle-class lifestyle can include mortgages, debts, credit cards and school fees. These expenses are all perfectly serviceable and not unreasonable in the good times. But in the bad times, entire lives can come crashing down. Continue reading »

On 15 October 2009 The Times published an article with the headline, Why is it so difficult for law students to get a first? The feature, by Rebecca Attwood, suggested that students reading other subjects are more likely to achieve the highest degree.

That piece was quietly read, noted and bookmarked by one Ben Stowe, known to readers of this blog as my son. Eight months later and just as quietly, without fuss, he sent it to me on my Blackberry to read today.

Ben is also the person whose washing regularly causes hassle for me, arriving as it does in at least three full bags on Saturday mornings, when I’m puffing away on my Wattbike trying to keep fit. But with perhaps more than a little help from my husband, we have managed fine…

When Ben was a little boy, the first hurdle for me (not him) was getting him into the “right” school. We chose it with care; noting how all our friends were competing to get their children into the same place, we put Ben’s name down for Leeds Grammar School when he was all of two weeks old. When I look back I must admit that I entered into the “competitive mummy” thing wholeheartedly. I would notice how every other child was quick to walk, quick to talk and so on. I would also notice, through gritted teeth, how every other mummy used to pretend she wasn’t thrilled to bits with her high achieving toddler when I could see very well that she was.  Ben had other ideas. He wasn’t the slightest bit bothered to compete.  Instead he was a quiet, self-assured boy, who took his time and was disinclined to pit himself against the other children. No matter how much I pushed him to be more assertive as he got older, he just used to mutter, “Mum, you’re embarrassing me!” That was it. He knew me and I knew him. Neither of us changed. Continue reading »

Suppose that you are going through a very nasty financial case in the course of your divorce.

Suppose that your former spouse is behaving very badly during this process.

Suppose you both know that the court is likely to make the usual costs order in the case, with each side being asked to pay their own costs.

The party who decides to behave badly decides there is not much to lose. This party takes a gamble and increases their own costs in an effort to minimise the eventual settlement, safe in the knowledge that he or she will not have to pay the costs of the other side.

On the other side the frustration is clear. Costs are going through the roof and a nasty game is being played out. It is extremely difficult to find out what the opposing spouse is worth at all. Smokescreens and mirrors prevent anything other than a lengthy and convoluted legal process. The stronger spouse, confident the weaker one is getting nowhere, makes derisory offers.

It is pretty clear to all concerned that the intention (usually unspoken, but obvious nevertheless) is to rack up costs as much as possible, raise as many obstacles as possible to avoid disclosure, to avoid coming to the table and in general, to make life as hard as possible so that those derisory offers become more “palatable” as an end to this protracted saga.

This type of behaviour is not uncommon, especially when a spouse has much to lose. One of the worst examples I encountered recently was a client who told me her husband had telephoned the solicitor she had previously instructed, and personally threatened him and his firm with ruin if they touched her case. When she instructed another firm, he did exactly the same.

Suppose you are at your wits end, you are approaching court and you believe that you will ultimately succeed. However your costs have cleaned out all your savings. You desperately need to have your legal costs met, or your struggle will have been in vain. What can you do about it? How can you make the court depart from the normal “no order” principle?

Here is my advice: Continue reading »

Sue Jenkinson (pictured left, at her graduation) is the Head of Law at Staffordshire University. She is also a divorcee, a successful businesswoman and a mother of three. After meeting Dr Jenkinson at Staffordshire University’s Annual Family Law Seminar and hearing her inspiring story, I asked if she would contribute a post to this blog’s series on Coping With Divorce. Sue pays tribute to Prof Chris Barton in her piece. I echo all her sentiments: he is one great guy.

As an old proverb states: “The best time to plant a tree is 20 years ago. The second best time is now”.

I am a very lucky woman and the law has been good to me in an unexpected way. At almost 54 I have finally found my niche – and a very interesting legal niche it is. I know it is a cliché, but if life throws lemons, make lemonade. (And sell it at 20p a bottle more than it costs you to make…)

I was what was charmingly called a “gymslip mum” in the early 1970s. I managed to leave school with no formal qualifications, a beautiful bouncing baby son and a laser-like ability to choose hopeless boyfriends. When I was 21 and my son was about to start school, I met my husband and a blissful period ensued. By the time I was 34 he decided that the grass was greener (it very rarely is) and I had three children to support and raise: a 16-year-old, a three-year-old and a ten-month-old baby. I had no formal qualifications and no useful work experience. I fully believed that the magistrates court, and later the CSA, would make sure that the children were supported. However I soon realised that I was on my own financially. A pretty scary prospect, but I was determined that my children were not going to be the victims of my poor choices. I was also determined to use education to understand the system in which I was embroiled, but also to widen my horizons and develop a career. Continue reading »

This weekend I celebrated my 48th birthday. And before some of my readers start to splutter  (especially LocalBarrister, who was a mere stripling at school when I was in the Upper Sixth), may I quickly add: again!

I have reached the age where 48 is the maximum age I will ever admit to. In every gym I visit, whenever my age is requested by one of the cycling machines, I intend to faithfully and without fail pump in my age: 48.  As I did on a cycling machine at the weekend, which was outdoors – and which happened to be in Capri.

My birthday weekend, three luxurious days, was spent on the island. It is the first time I have ever been there; I can’t say the journey was quick and easy, and therefore I wasn’t in a great mood! Not having access to a private plane or helicopter, the two hour and forty minute flight to Italy from London was followed by a hair-raising journey across Naples in a taxi. The panic-stricken taxi driver helped to carry our bags and literally threw them onto the hydrofoil, which was just about to leave, and was our water transport to Capri. Fifty minutes later, we arrived; another taxi driver helped to carry all the bags to the harbour where, after finally scrambling into the taxi and making our way through the packed crowds, we eventually headed out of town up into the hills to Anacapri, and the sanctuary of our beautiful and very peaceful hotel, the Caesar Augustus which has the most stunning views of Capri.

With his exams looming, my son Ben has been quieter than usual. A few weeks ago, on one of his regular laundry drop-off visits, he briefly mentioned that he had decided to go down the solicitor route after he leaves university in June. What he added, however, has had me thinking. Ben said that he wasn’t sure about his future, because he didn’t want to get on the “treadmill” as we had. He said that every working day, all his life, he had seen his parents go off to work every morning and return every evening. He wondered if life held anything more – and if so, shouldn’t he try and find it? Continue reading »