I was always naturally argumentative. But I didn’t have any role model at all, nobody that I knew was involved in law.
I was either going to be a journalist or a lawyer. What swayed me? I grew up in the 1980s and you start to get politically awakened in your teens. This was at a time when Margaret Thatcher was in government and everything was extremely political. I realised that I would probably have to write in accordance with the political wishes of the editor and I didn’t think I could do that.
I come from Middlesbrough. In the 80s, it was not a genteel place. It’s probably not genteel now! My mum and dad didn’t have any form of tertiary education. One of the reasons that I didn’t study English at university was that it felt wrong to be studying something that didn’t immediately lead to a job. I’d have a different view now, but at the time, it did feel self-indulgent because my mum and dad were making real sacrifices. I wanted to get to the position where I was repaying them as quickly as possible, and I don’t mean repaying them in any kind of monetary way, but repaying that faith in me.
My background has helped me in my career. My dad always told me to be true to myself, and that’s what I’ve always been.
I didn’t really know that much about law firms, and I was applying at a time when it was quite difficult. We were in a recession. I applied to loads and loads of firms, it was pretty scattergun. I remember getting a summer placement with Stephenson Harwood and I really loved it and the people.
It came down to Stephenson Harwood or Slaughter and May. I had a great interview at Stephenson Harwood where the partner interviewing me and I were just talking about football. He was a Sunderland fan, and they’re a massive rival to Middlesbrough, who I support, so we just had a really nice chat. I was invited to go down and see Slaughters, and the thing that really turned me off was that the trainee that showed me around didn’t really know anyone. At one point he gestured towards an office and said to me: ‘That’s Mr Boardman!’ I said: ‘Okay…’After that, there was absolutely no way I was going to Slaughters.
I had convinced myself that I was going to do corporate because I really enjoyed studying company law. But by the time I qualified, the die had been cast in favour of litigation. I looked up to John Fordham. He was always working on a load of big-ticket litigation when I first started and is an incredibly charismatic individual.
In one of my earliest cases, I was sent to Marbella to serve a cease-and-desist order. I was struggling to find the individual. In the end I managed to serve the wrong person on the say-so of a waiter in a café – luckily the wrong person gave the papers to the right person, so it all worked out in the end!
I was once sent to Deal in Kent to serve an injunction, and I got stuck in the loo. I’d taken a paralegal with me, because the person I was meant to serve was known to be violent. I arrived at the hotel late, threw my phone onto the bed and nipped into the loo. Suddenly I realised I couldn’t open the door. After lots of banging and shouting I managed to get somebody’s attention. They wanted me to escape via a window and down a ladder. But it was really windy, so I said: ‘That’s not happening!’
I was shouting at my paralegal through the door, asking him to explain I’d be late. I could hear him saying: ‘Yeah… Sue’s in the loo…’
I eventually got out and managed to track down the individual’s wife. She told me he’d meet me in the pub. I had to start furiously googling whether it was legal to serve notice on someone in a pub.
My dispute resolution style? I hope that people would describe me as firm and effective. I don’t see the point in being aggressive for the sake of it. I want to get the best results for my client, but I don’t want to be miserable about achieving that.
A career defining case for me: I acted for RBS against a now-defunct law firm over a failed timeshare scheme. I was quite junior, but my partner just left me to it. I ended up sharing a house with my counsel team, which was Hazel Williamson QC and Anthony Trace (he wasn’t QC at the time). I did everything. Chief cook, bottle washer, you name it. At the end of it Hazel gave me a red bag – leading counsel can give junior counsel a red bag in recognition of outstanding work – she actually had to get permission from the Bar Council to give it to a solicitor. At the time she told me I couldn’t even publicise it!
The speed at which sanctions are being imposed right now is pretty unprecedented. The situation is changing two or three times a day. I’ve done sanctions work as part of my practice since around 2008 and it’s never moved this fast before.
You’ve got to have fun while you’re at work. I found isolation and working from home very difficult. In some ways, I found that side of things more difficult than my brain tumour diagnosis last year. You’re on a treatment train, you get on it and at some point you get off. But with feelings of isolation from not seeing anyone, you’re just constantly sitting at your desk and working. It’s hard.
My team would probably describe me as easily irritated, short-tempered, but incredibly loyal. I’m not lacking in self-awareness – some lawyers really are, but I’m not one of them.
Me and Stephenson Harwood, we’ve had our ups and downs. In some respects, it would be extraordinary if it was all ups all the time. But the firm has been incredibly supportive over the last twelve months. The people are lovely. At the end of the day, they have always been there when I needed them.
My team would probably describe me as easily irritated, short-tempered, but incredibly loyal. I’m not lacking in self-awareness – some lawyers really are, but I’m not one of them.
Prior to my diagnosis I would have sleepless nights worrying about work all the time. After my diagnosis, and I’ve been working full-time since September 2021, I don’t worry about anything. I will never make the client’s problems my problems again. I sleep like a baby.
Work has been a welcome distraction. I collapsed in the street and they had to put me in an induced coma because they couldn’t control my seizures. I then had an awake craniotomy in May last year. The thought of it is horrific, but it really wasn’t. My speech therapist said to me: ‘If you think about it, root canal treatment is worse.’ Sounds crazy but it’s true! Root canal treatment is uncomfortable. But when someone’s operating on your brain you’re in a comfortable spot and chatting away!
I underestimated how tiring chemotherapy is. I have an oncologist named Omar, but I call him ‘the lovely Omar’ because he introduced himself as just ‘Omar’ rather than Dr Whoever. Doctors rarely do that! He told me at the outset that chemotherapy is additive in that you will get progressively more tired. I’ve got two more cycles to go out of six, and he was right. Because of what’s going on in the sanctions world at the moment I am extraordinarily busy and that has been a good distraction for me.
I’m truly optimistic. I’ve learned an awful lot through the process. All in all, my condition is a gift, but it isn’t one I would have willingly opened.
I love to travel in both my personal and professional lives. We went to Copenhagen during half-term. We pushed the boat out and stayed in an amazing hotel and an amazing room. I loved it.
My favourite holiday destination is Pollença, a town in the northeast of Mallorca. It feels like going home because it’s so relaxed. I like a little bit of culture and a lot of relaxation.
I adore Ted Lasso. It’s just so optimistic and well-played. The only thing they get wrong is describing the changing room as a ‘locker room.’ Otherwise, it’s really well-observed.
Marcus Rashford is obviously well-advised. But the fact that he was willing to speak up around child poverty does actually make him one of my heroes. He’s just such an incredible individual. He could just have kept his mouth shut but he stood up and got the government to U-turn more than once.
I hate Marmite, but I love Bovril. It’s not the same! Marmite is like Vegemite but Bovril is bloody gorgeous. I tend to eat Bovril on my crumpets in the morning.
My favourite song ever is Cigarettes & Alcohol by Oasis. In the 90s I went to quite a few Oasis concerts when there was a big rivalry between Oasis and Blur. I just adore the optimism of that song.
I don’t believe in ‘what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger’ – that’s nonsense. But I do believe in Nelson Mandela’s quote of ‘I either win or I learn.’ I really didn’t appreciate how optimistic my outlook was. I thought I was a natural-born pessimist, but I’m not. I always learn.
Sue Millar is a litigation partner at Stephenson Harwood.