5. Guest v. Finbow Day One
GUEST V. FINBOW: DAY ONE
Ms. Ibrahim, acting on behalf of Jean Guest, stands first.
“My lord, here’s the unfortunate situation,” she begins carefully.
“Your adult child decides they no longer wish to maintain a relationship with you. How should you respond? Those circumstances may indeed be sad, and they may be very painful, but they are not grounds for causing willful damage to the reputation of those individuals who happen to retain contact with the estranged.”
There is a pause as she waits for that to sink in. Her fingertips rest on the desk, flexing and unflexing.
“That is why this particular case, however costly it has already proven, is not at all complex. There can be no disputing the defamatory language used by the defendant, Mrs. Finbow, in her published newsletter, The Peony , nor the wide extent of its readership. And, since this is a question of libel, it is not my client’s responsibility to disprove the defamatory accusations leveled against her.
We are merely bringing the claim. The burden of evidence,” she says, gesturing elegantly toward Anna, “sits with the defense, whose evidence we look forward to examining later this morning.”
Ms. Ibrahim pauses briefly for water, then spends several minutes running over the failed attempts to get the case settled outside of court.
“It is with deep regret that we are even here, my lord. We decry the defendant’s resistance to mediation, despite mounting costs and emotional harm caused to those involved.
Because, above all, it is Ms. Guest’s own clients whom she cares for most. She cherishes their well-being far above her own reputation.
For years, she has dedicated herself to the psychological regeneration of her clients, many of whom present with extremely challenging mental disorders.
She is not interested in engaging in this proxy custody battle with her client’s mother. She simply wants to do her job.”
Ms. Ibrahim turns and addresses the wider courtroom.
“This has been her vocation since she left the family home in North Wales as an eighteen-year-old, to undertake her role as a mental health nurse in London, first at the Maudsley Hospital in Camberwell, then at HMP Feltham. Eventually, and at great personal cost, my client embarked on her own training in psychotherapy at Regent’s University.
Unfortunately, she was unable to complete that training, due to her dedication to her day job, but that struggle informed her pioneering practice.
Today, she runs a successful coaching business out of her house in Primrose Hill, blending psychodynamic techniques with holistic treatments such as Reiki, hypnosis, and nutritional guidance.
Many of her clients, from whom we will hear during the trial, credit her with altering the course of their lives for the better and in doing so giving them the strength to launch careers, and achieve deeper self-acceptance.
” She pauses and glances toward Anna. “Or to leave certain relationships which no longer serve them.”
Ms. Ibrahim’s manner softens as she concludes. “We extend sympathy toward Mrs. Finbow for her anguish surrounding her daughter’s life choices. But we also posit that my client’s professional reputation must be respectfully upheld, and cleared of these wholly destructive allegations.”
Ms. Ibrahim thanks the judge and sits back down. In the gallery, there is the hum of thoughtful conferring.
“It’s not a coaching business,” Lucy hisses aloud, as those nearby acknowledge her uneasily. “It’s a cult .”
I place a hand briefly on her arm. An act of support, though I am not yet sure if I agree. Not when my body remembers old loyalties. Not when the softest part of me witnesses the deceit. Calls me traitor.
“Are you a therapist, my lord?”
It is now Ms. Carr’s turn to stand. An older, twig-thin woman, her heels clipping noisily on the ground, approaches the judge’s bench.
The question elicits weak laughter from the gallery.
Judge and barrister exchange a brief smirk; there is a twinkle of recognition between the two of them that alludes to a relationship beyond the courtroom.
Perhaps they are college buddies, distant cousins, or family friends.
“No, you are not a therapist, my lord, though you may very easily claim to be. Throughout the United Kingdom, this industry is dangerously unregulated. The terms ‘therapist,’ ‘counselor,’ and ‘life coach’ are not protected. I could go online this evening and purchase credentials that would allow me to set up practice as any, or all three, of those occupations tomorrow morning.” She pauses and looks at her colleagues.
“Frightening, isn’t it? My lord, the petition that my client circulated in her newsletter sought to raise awareness about the harm caused by unlicensed therapists.
It gained millions of signatures and will shortly be debated in Parliament.
There is no doubting the truth of the problem that extremely vulnerable people, such as is the case with my client’s daughter, are exposed every day to dangerously misguided individuals like the claimant, Ms. Guest. There can also be no doubting the truth of my client’s words: that her daughter sought relief from her therapist, and has instead been subjected to coercion, manipulation, and exploitation.
In short, she is one of many young women who have been caught up in Ms. Guest’s brutal and calculating network, which we will prove is , in practice, a therapy cult. ”
The gallery falls silent. The heat of the room is beginning to seep into my skin now, and my armpits prickle damply with it. Lucy has withdrawn a tissue from her handbag, which she presses against her lips. Ms. Carr turns her page and continues.
“Coercive relationships happen very easily in therapy. We meet a practitioner. We trust them. We transfer all sorts of complex feelings onto them. We might even fall in love. It’s very common, my lord.
Freud called it ‘Transference.’ An awareness of this tendency within such an intimate relationship is a key matter of professional ethics.
Professionals are trained to create a boundary between themselves and their clients.
This is not the case with Jean Guest because her professional credentials are, in fact, only superficial; she has twisted what little training she has undertaken to sound more credible than she really is. ”
Justice Larkin’s gaze moves to the table where Jean is sitting. I wonder what he is making of her now, whether his mind is struggling to reconcile these assertions with the bookish woman in front of him. Ms. Carr follows his gaze, then gestures in the same direction.
“My esteemed colleague may believe that this case is, what was her phrase? ‘Not at all complex,’ she said, but we argue quite the opposite. It is an astoundingly complicated case, since it centers on our understanding of what our memories are capable of. As my client wrote in her newsletter, Ms. Guest embeds false memories in the minds of her patients as a means of wielding control over their lives. She exploits the fallibility of human memory for her own gain. This is the part that is not at all complex : Our personal memories, indeed, our entire sense of self, can be led astray in an astonishing number of ways. The memories we hold about those we love are not stable. They are not insects suspended in resin, perfectly preserved. Our memories are suggestible, prone to contamination, slippery as eels. Easily warped in the wrong hands. And, my lord, Mary Finbow is in the most wrong hands. Before she met Jean Guest, Mary was a dedicated and loving daughter. Today, Mary is ostracized from her entire social milieu. In her newsletter, my client only wanted to speak this truth.”
There is a pause as Ms. Carr smiles grimly, waiting for the rumble of voices to die down.
“Over the coming days, we will learn how the claimant never fosters the psychic liberation that her followers are seeking. Instead, she annexes their social freedoms, and creates dangerously codependent devotees who are isolated from everyone except Ms. Guest, their cunningly charismatic, self-appointed leader. Through coercion, she severs her followers not only from their families but from their once-bright futures. It is from this position that we defend the statements and sentiments of The Peony as accurate and genuine. Put simply: My client was delivering the facts. And a fact cannot be libelous.”
The judge thanks both barristers for their opening statements and announces the beginning of witness evidence.
First, he calls Mrs. Anna Finbow to the stand, and as she rises, she glances toward the gallery one more time, just to check.
Mary has not come, but Anna won’t be defeated.
Her eye briefly falls on me, and she gives a curt nod.
Perhaps it is a threat, or it could be something else, a kinder signal. Not a warning but a Watch this .