‘All that being said,’ Roger now stepped in, shuffling his own papers, ‘a statement can only be libellous if it is presented as fact. My client’s tweet reads as follows: Max Hastings trial final update. I don’t care what the jury believes: he is guilty.’ He cleared his throat. ‘Now the phrase I don’t care clearly places the following statement as a subjective one, an opinion, not fact –’
‘Oh, don’t give me that,’ Epps cut in. ‘You’re trying to fall back on the opinion privilege? Really? Please. The statement was clearly worded as fact, and the audio file presented as though it were actually real.’
‘It is real,’ Pip said. ‘Wanna hear it?’
‘Pip, please –’
‘Mr Turner –’
‘It’s clearly doctored.’ Max spoke up for the first time, maddeningly calm, folding his hands in front of him. His eyes focused only on the mediator. ‘I don’t even sound like that.’
‘What, like a rapist?’ Pip spat across at him.
‘MR TURNER –’
‘Pip –’
‘OK, everyone!’ Hassan stood up. ‘Let’s take this down a notch. We will all get our chance to speak. Remember, we are here to make sure everyone is happy with the outcome. Mr Epps, could you take us through the damages your client is seeking?’
Epps bowed his head, pulling out a sheet of paper from the bottom of the pile. ‘For special damages, considering my client should have been in employment for the last four months, at a monthly salary level we would expect for someone in his position, this would have been at least three thousand sterling. This places the financial loss at twelve thousand pounds.’
Max sucked at his water bottle again, the water sloshing around his throat. Pip would have liked to take that fucking water bottle and smash it into his face. If there was to be blood on her hands, it should be his.
‘Of course no monetary figure can be put on the pain and mental anguish suffered by my client and his family. But we feel a sum of eight thousand pounds should be adequate, bringing the total to twenty thousand pounds sterling.’
‘Ridiculous,’ Roger said, shaking his head. ‘My client is only eighteen years old.’
‘Mr Turner, you should allow me to finish,’ Epps sneered, licking his finger to turn the page. ‘However, in discussion with my client, it is his opinion that his ongoing suffering is caused by the fact that the libellous statement has not been retracted and no apology issued, which would actually be of greater value to him than any monetary damages.’
‘Miss Fitz-Amobi deleted the post weeks ago, when your initial letter of demand was sent,’ said Roger.
‘Mr Turner, please,’ Epps replied. If Pip had to hear him say please like that one more time, she might just smash his face in too. ‘Deleting the tweet after the fact does not mitigate the reputational harm done. So, our proposal is thus: Miss Fitz-Amobi releases a statement on the same public account, in which she retracts her original defamatory statement with an admission of wrongdoing and apologizes for any hurt her words have caused my client. In addition – and this is the most important sticking point, so do pay close attention – in this statement, she must fully admit that she doctored the audio clip in question and that my client never said those words.’
‘Fuck off.’
‘Pip –’
‘Miss Fitz-Amobi,’ Hassan pleaded, struggling with his tie like it was tightening around his neck, chasing its own tail.
‘I will ignore your client’s outburst, Mr Turner,’ said Epps. ‘If those demands are met, we shall apply a discount, as it were, to the monetary damages, halving them to ten thousand pounds.’
‘OK, that’s a good starting point,’ Hassan nodded, trying to regain control. ‘Mr Turner, would you like to respond to the proposal?’
‘Thank you, Mr Bashir,’ Roger said, taking the floor. ‘The proposed damages are still too high. You make great assumptions about your client’s potential employment status. I don’t see him as a particularly spectacular candidate, especially in the current jobs market. My client is just eighteen. Her only income is from ad revenue from her true crime podcast, and she starts university in a few weeks, where she will incur a large student debt. In light of this, the demand is unreasonable.’
‘OK, seven thousand,’ Epps said, narrowing his eyes.
‘Five thousand,’ Roger countered.
Epps glanced quickly at Max who gave an ever-so-slight nod, slouching sideways in his chair. ‘That is agreeable to us,’ Epps said, ‘in conjuncture with the retraction and apology.’