Prince Harry arrives outside the High Court in London ahead of the trial in a case pitting him and six other high-profile complainants against a major UK newspaper group. Photo / Toby Shepheard, AFP
Prince Harry strolled rather nonchalantly into Court 76 of the High Court moments before 10.30am.
If the consequences of this high-stakes, high-profile legal battle against the publisher of the Daily Mail weighed heavily on his shoulders, he certainly didn’t show it.
The prince, by now all too familiar with courtroom surroundings, barely glanced around amid a brief kerfuffle about where he was supposed to sit. No thought, it appeared, had been given to the claimants’ attendance.
The gentle hubbub that had enveloped the modern courtroom, where six long rows of smartly dressed lawyers, solicitors and journalists sat shoulder to shoulder, gave way to hushed silence.
Harry, dressed in a navy suit and accompanied by two members of his private security team as well as his PR manager, stood for a few moments, fiddling with his shirt, before taking his seat between two young solicitors in the third row.
Liz Hurley had earlier sashayed into the courtroom accompanied by her 23-year-old son, Damien. The glamorous pair turned a few heads as they were directed to their seats in the second row of the court.
Behind them, Sadie Frost, sporting a smart, dyed bob, and Sir Simon Hughes, the former Lib Dem MP, took their seats on either side of the prince, members of their legal team sandwiched between them.
Sir Elton John and his husband, David Furnish, were following proceedings via the remote video link. There was no immediate sign of the seventh claimant, Baroness Lawrence.
Bang on 10.30am, Justice Nicklin swept into the courtroom looking rather jolly, prompting David Sherborne, for the claimants – dressed in his trademark, tightly-fitted black suit – to leap to his feet.
The barristers had previously agreed not to wear the traditional gowns and wigs – apparently the preference of Antony White KC for Associated – and had received no objection from the judge.
“My Lord, I appear for the claimants, alongside Ben Hamer, Luke Browne and Hector Penny,” Sherborne began.
“This is the trial of the action brought by seven different claimants in six different claims against Associated Newspapers Limited for misuse of private information, and in the case of Ms Lawrence, breach of confidence.”
The barrister quickly set out his claim. A known performer who relishes the spotlight, he rattled through the main points of his case in trademark punchy sound bites.
There had been, he alleged, “clear, systematic and sustained use of unlawful information gathering at both the Daily Mail and the Mail on Sunday” that involved “every significant editorial desk”.
Sherborne noted that at the 2011-12 Leveson Inquiry into press ethics, Associated had “emphatically denied” any unlawful acts, its position “clear and unequivocal”.
“In short, they swore that they were a clean ship,” he said, before insisting this was not the case. “They knew they had skeletons in their closet,” he went on.
Harry sat back in his chair, a slight frown on his face, listening intently. He occasionally leaned forward to tap something on his phone and appeared to be following along closely as various documents flashed up on the screen before him.
In front of him, model Damien had shrugged off his brown woollen coat to reveal a tight, sheer top. He kept on his black scarf as he occasionally raked a hand through a coiffed bouffant that put Sherborne’s famed locks to shame, chewing his fingers.
Hughes sat forward, resting his head in a hand, scribbling notes while the petite Frost appeared occasionally bored as she flicked through paperwork and fiddled with her phone. A bottle of water and lip balm were among the contents of her handbag spilt out on the desk before her.
Sherborne went on, alleging a “mass destruction” of emails, resulting in “masses upon masses” of missing documents and accusing the publisher of mounting a “hear no evil, see no evil, speak no evil defence”.
Victory for the claimants, he suggested, would be catastrophic for the influential newspaper group.
As the barrister talked, barely pausing for breath, Harry struck up a rapport with the young member of his legal team to his left, occasionally whispering the odd observation and sharing a smile.
At the heart of the claimants’ case are the tactics employed by an array of private investigators, whose work Sherborne described in forensic detail.
As the morning wore on, Hughes’ head seemed to sink further into his hand, while Damien Hurley took to scribbling something with a Biro. The packed courtroom, devoid of fresh air, felt increasingly stifled. Harry sipped his water.
Sherborne, whose opening statement is expected to last well into Tuesday, ploughed on.
“Please tell me if I’m going too fast,” he told the bespectacled judge as he directed him to endless numbered paragraphs buried in lengthy electronic documents: “If you could just look at bundle F, tab three…”
“It looks a little bit like Minority Report,” he joked at one point, referring to Steven Spielberg’s science fiction film, gesturing to the multiple computer screens positioned before the judge on his podium.
“Are you able to have more than one screen?”
Harry didn’t flinch as the barrister moved on to discuss stories concerning his relationship with Chelsy Davy, his former girlfriend, reading out emails concerning various flight details and hotel bills.
During the brief breaks, he exchanged quick words with both Frost and Hughes.
An apparent request to delay the afternoon session because of the absence of Hurley and her son went unheeded, forcing the pair to scurry in moments later, when Sherborne was already back on his feet.
Towards the end of the afternoon, Imran Khan, Baroness Lawrence’s solicitor, arrived in court, giving a genial nod to Harry as he took a seat at the back.
Journalists, meanwhile, combed through written submissions lodged by both sides – Associated’s robust defence stretching to 458 pages, and the claimants’, a relatively concise 180.
It has been more than three years since these claims were first lodged with the court.
The judge’s cheerful demeanour perhaps reflected his relief that the nine-week, £38.8m ($90m) trial was finally underway. Whether spirits remain upbeat remains to be seen.
The duke waved to reporters as he left the Royal Courts of Justice at the end of the first day of the trial.
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