Result!
The Owner of The School That Sacked Me has been forced to pay almost 20,000€ to two teachers in the school who were sacked by that unfeeling, unprofessional and basically illegal person.
In an unreal reworking of one of those marvellous sketches by Daumier of huddles of lawyers gathered in small intimate groups outside the court rooms deciding the fate of their clients, The Owner pushed the final outcome of this case to the wire. The usher was actually calling the case as yet another consultation was held to see if something could be worked out.
The lawyer, colleagues and I met under the Arc de Triumph in Barcelona not only because it was a good metaphor for what we hoped to achieve but also because it was very near the courts.
The Owner, of course, did not turn up. Instead we saw her minion, haggard of face with a trio of lawyers. She gave a visible start when she recognized me but passed off the moment with a truly ghastly smile. This sidekick has made a Faustian bargain with The Owner and does all her dirty work. She did not look at all well and I felt not a scrap of sympathy for a woman who deliberately lied to me and who has only survived by suppressing any moral feelings that she might have about what she had to do on a daily basis.
After a deal had been done we all shook hands with lawyers on both sides and kissed The Owner’s creature. When she kissed me she said with a wry laugh, “Mr Rees. You can go!” It wasn’t said viciously and I have no real idea what she meant. Toni said that it was the equivalent of telling me to get lost; but he wasn’t there and I’m not sure that it was anything more than sheer exasperation. In which case I am more than satisfied. Also the news that I was there will get back to The Owner and cause her displeasure. Another bonus!
Once out of the court (into which we never actually got!) we had a celebratory cup of coffee and went our separate ways with the Dutch lawyer saying that we had to arrange a time to meet next week to consider who to continue my efforts to bring The Owner to book.
A most satisfactory morning.
The evening was taken up with a visit to Terrassa for a family birthday. It went as these things usually go but will be remembered for a truly spectacular cream birthday cake with the flavour of Crema Catalana. The floor show was provided by the one year old (his older brother have succumbed to sleep) who stole blatant finger loads of cream and then put a tiny hand over his mouth in a gesture of shocked guilt.
It doesn’t sound like much; perhaps you had to be there to find it amusing. And his fingers not be in your portion of cake.
And the Cava was nice too.
The Owner of The School That Sacked Me has been forced to pay almost 20,000€ to two teachers in the school who were sacked by that unfeeling, unprofessional and basically illegal person.
In an unreal reworking of one of those marvellous sketches by Daumier of huddles of lawyers gathered in small intimate groups outside the court rooms deciding the fate of their clients, The Owner pushed the final outcome of this case to the wire. The usher was actually calling the case as yet another consultation was held to see if something could be worked out.
The lawyer, colleagues and I met under the Arc de Triumph in Barcelona not only because it was a good metaphor for what we hoped to achieve but also because it was very near the courts.
The Owner, of course, did not turn up. Instead we saw her minion, haggard of face with a trio of lawyers. She gave a visible start when she recognized me but passed off the moment with a truly ghastly smile. This sidekick has made a Faustian bargain with The Owner and does all her dirty work. She did not look at all well and I felt not a scrap of sympathy for a woman who deliberately lied to me and who has only survived by suppressing any moral feelings that she might have about what she had to do on a daily basis.
After a deal had been done we all shook hands with lawyers on both sides and kissed The Owner’s creature. When she kissed me she said with a wry laugh, “Mr Rees. You can go!” It wasn’t said viciously and I have no real idea what she meant. Toni said that it was the equivalent of telling me to get lost; but he wasn’t there and I’m not sure that it was anything more than sheer exasperation. In which case I am more than satisfied. Also the news that I was there will get back to The Owner and cause her displeasure. Another bonus!
Once out of the court (into which we never actually got!) we had a celebratory cup of coffee and went our separate ways with the Dutch lawyer saying that we had to arrange a time to meet next week to consider who to continue my efforts to bring The Owner to book.
A most satisfactory morning.
The evening was taken up with a visit to Terrassa for a family birthday. It went as these things usually go but will be remembered for a truly spectacular cream birthday cake with the flavour of Crema Catalana. The floor show was provided by the one year old (his older brother have succumbed to sleep) who stole blatant finger loads of cream and then put a tiny hand over his mouth in a gesture of shocked guilt.
It doesn’t sound like much; perhaps you had to be there to find it amusing. And his fingers not be in your portion of cake.
And the Cava was nice too.
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