CENTRE POINT
Maya Flick, woman from Egham, strikes a blow for embittered wives everywhere
SIMON JENKINS
When archaeologists come to dig up the remains of our civilisation, they will light with fascination on the divorce claim of Mrs Maya Flick, which went forward last week to the Court of Appeal. It is the biggest claim ever heard by a British judge. Mrs Flick is already a heroine of the divorce court circuit. Details of her claim will soon doubtless be printed on National Trust aprons and appear framed above the kitchen sinks. In moments of marital stress wives will pray to St Maya, and dream of hitting their husbands with the same aplomb.
Mrs Flick, of German and Hungarian parentage, was appealing against her Ger- man husband's offer of a £9 million settle- ment, following claims by both parties of adultery. Mrs Flick is a 37-year-old law graduate living in Egham. Her husband is a Mercedes heir. She is pursuing her claim in Britain because, by all accounts, a German judge would give her far less. The Family Division of the High Court offered her £9 million, which she considers inadequate for her needs. Her original claim included £12,000 a year for telephone calls, £6,500 for petrol, £4,000 for the upkeep of a labrador, £5,000 for `knick-knacks', £5,000 for the 'drinks tray for casual visitors' and £50,000 for clothes.
The Family Division judge dealing with the case, Mr Justice Thorpe, balked at some of these items. But he agreed to her request of £300,000 for a London pied-a- terre, as well as £1.9 million for a country house. As for £750,000 allowed for a Swiss chalet, there was little point in spending such money, he accepted, without a further £50,000 to furnish it, and the same again for the London flat.
Interviewed by the Times, Mrs Flick asked that her demands be placed 'in con- text'. She had already scaled down her lifestyle by '80 per cent'. Her former hus- band, with whom relations are not surpris- ingly somewhat strained, can apparently afford these sums. This fact deeply moved three appeal court judges, who duly allowed Mrs Flick's appeal against Mr Jus- tice Thorpe's settlement. Such stories in the press are usually followed by the revela- tion that Mr and Mrs Flick are on legal aid. Not so here. They have expended £1.4 mil- lion on fees, a generosity to the legal pro- fession that must also have softened hearts in the Court of Appeal.
What is surely astonishing is that the courts can treat such cases as worth the time spent adjudicating them. Cohorts of solicitors, accountants, barristers and judges do not say, 'Mrs Flick, you are a spoilt woman of the first water. You have been awarded £9 million, which is more than most people's dreams of avarice. Go away.' Instead, three appeal judges (allegedly overworked, so we constantly hear) read her document, shake their heads and join her in lamenting that labradors indeed eat you out of house and home, that the drinks tray costs a fortune and that Swiss interior decorators are daylight rob- bery. We are all on the same planet, they say to Mrs Flick. We are all in the same ballpark.
I sometimes wish I had been born a Marxist. Conspiracy theories are always more exciting than coincidence ones. I note that this case came before the Court of Appeal in the same week that the legal fra- ternity is watching on tenterhooks the fate of Lord Mackay's divorce bill. His lord- ship's New Model Army of mediators and conciliators is on the warpath. It plans to invade the lawyers' territory, usurp their prerogatives and suppress their rituals. Lord Mackay wants to take divorce as far as possible out of the hands of lawyers. He wants to take some of the acrimony out of alimony.
The £1.4 million of costs in the Flick case indicates the scale of what is at risk to the legal profession. Not for the first time in his career, Lord Mackay is the enemy at the lawyers' door. From his officials, the judges imply, distressed women will be lucky to walk away with five quid and a bottle of lager. (The joyless mediators might even suggest that Mrs Flick should resume her career as a civil servant.) By contrast, judges offer a Rolls-Royce service. Only the full majesty of the law, they say, will give a sympathetic ear to a wife's heartrending pleas. Only a judge knows the exorbitant cost of upper-middle-class living, `No! I'm on a low-bat diet or understands about labradors, drinks trays and the price of petrol on the M4.
With contingency fees beckoning, the legal profession is apparently looking to its interest. The gravy train must pick up speed, not be derailed by some cheese-par- ing Scots Presbyterian. What better than a mouth-watering appeal? The Flick case is a heaven-sent opportunity for the divorce courts to advertise their services to embit- tered wives. Litigation is for real women. Mediation is for wimps. Every wife should pray at the shrine of St Maya. So says the Court of Appeal.
This is, I realise, a scandalous calumny on the dignity of the Family Division and Court of Appeal. I accordingly retract all aspersions. The divorce courts are open to the poor woman at her gate; they should equally be open to the rich woman in her castle. It is not the job of the courts to indulge in redistributive taxation (except apparently from men to women). The rich are different only in having more money. If the Flicks of this world wish to come to Britain and argue over the upkeep of a labrador, then the scales of the civil law should be at their disposal — assuming they can afford the fee. That is the mark of a civilised society.
Yet I did note a reported comment by a divorce lawyer not involved in this case. She said that the Flick case should be a benchmark for more multi-million pound settlements against rich husbands from the High Court. She added by way of explana- tion that the £9 million was 'lower than some lottery wins'. That is now the general apologia for any windfall gain, be it to a utilities director, a negligence claimant or a divorcee. In America, men with substantial incomes are being strongly advised against matrimony on the grounds that justice is heavily weighted against them in the event of divorce. They can be ruined. A similar bias against marriage is clearly to be encouraged here.
The accusation that it is Lord Mackay who is hostile to 'the family' is patently absurd. His sensible reform — extending a quickie divorce to a one-year wait — is intended merely to bring order to this luna- cy. We now hear that the Government may drop his proposed reforms and leave the lawyers in command. It is another triumph for the lottery society.
Simon Jenkins writes for the Times.
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