Consumer Rights: Garage Owners’ Legal Duties

A case against a garage owner which went all the way to the French Supreme Court

I take my van in for repairs… the mechanic hands me back a wreck: the story of a completely unbelievable case.

“Maître, I think they’re taking me for a fool…”

There are phrases you hear often as a lawyer. And then there are the ones that tell you immediately you’re about to embark on something quite extraordinary. When Mrs C., aged 70, walked into my office, I had no idea that her case would stay with me for almost ten years and eventually end up before… the French Supreme Court.

Yes, really.

A brave retiree’s dream

Mrs C. isn’t wealthy. Living on a modest pension, she buys a run-down old house with one ambition: to renovate it herself. After all, why pay a contractor when you can learn to use a trowel, a drill and a wheelbarrow? There is just one thing she needs: a vehicle to carry all the building materials.

So she buys a small second-hand van. Not a classic. Not a Ferrari. Just a sturdy little workhorse that starts first time and does exactly what it’s supposed to do. Wanting complete peace of mind, she decides to do everything properly. Off to the garage it goes. A few repairs. A replacement injector. A service. A CT (MOT).

A bill for €500. She pays it immediately. At that moment, neither she nor anyone else could possibly have imagined that it would turn out to be the most expensive €500 she’d ever spend.

The call that nobody wants to receive

A few days later the phone rings. The mechanic’s voice is unusually solemn.

“Mrs C… I’m afraid I have some bad news…”

Normally, when a mechanic starts a conversation like that, you expect to hear about a worn-out clutch. Or a failing gearbox. Not what comes next. “Your van has been broken into…”

Well…That’s bad enough. Break-ins do happen. So Mrs C. goes to the garage.

And that’s when she finds a scene straight out of a disaster movie. The dashboard has vanished. The instrument panel too. The engine control unit is gone. The immobiliser has disappeared too. The fuse boxes?Gone without a trace. At this point, one question immediately springs to mind. Did the thief turn up with a screwdriver..or with a team of qualified mechanics?

Because it takes a remarkable level of determination to methodically strip an entire dashboard out of a van.

One detail that doesn’t add up

Like any lawyer with a healthy sense of curiosity, I ask to see the report filed with the police.

And then comes a moment of utter disbelief. According to the report, only one item had been stolen: the fuse box. Sorry… what? The van I can see in the photographs looks like a mechanical skeleton. But officially the only thing reported missing is a fuse box.

I read it again. Twice. Three times. Same story. I look at my client. She looks back at me and says,

“Maître… does that seem normal to you?”

With all the caution my profession demands, I reply,

“Let’s just say… it raises a few questions.”

The garage owner’s response

Naturally, Mrs C. asks for her van to be returned in the same condition she left it in. The answer comes back. Simple. Direct. Almost poetic.

“Come and collect your van as it is.”

As it is? Just imagine for a moment. You leave your phone at a repair shop to have the battery replaced. A week later they call you.

“Sir, here’s your phone.The screen’s gone. The motherboard’s gone too. But don’t worry the charger still works.” 

It’s exactly the same level of logic.

The first trial…

We take the case to court. In my mind, it seems straightforward.

When a professional agrees to repair a vehicle, they are not only obliged to carry out the repairs they are also responsible for looking after the vehicle while it is in their care.

In other words:

When you leave your van with a mechanic, you expect to get the whole van back. That’s hardly an unreasonable expectation.

Well…the court doesn’t quite share my enthusiasm.

In its view, once the repair bill had been paid, the repair contract had come to an end. From that point on, the garage was simply storing the vehicle. And because the garage had itself been the victim of a break-in the mechanic wasn’t liable for anything.

In short:

“It’s the thief’s fault.”

Case closed.

The first crushing blow

I look at my client. She is stunned. She asks me:

“So, let me get this straight… I get back a van that has been stripped apart… and nobody is responsible?”

A fair question.I reply:

“Apparently… not yet.”

Round two…

We appeal. Because in law, the first judge can sometimes get it wrong.

And sometimes…so can the second.

The Court of Appeal upholds the judgment. This time, the reasoning is as follows:

Mrs C. has failed to prove that the break-in was fabricated. I admit, I read that passage several times. Because at this rate…why not also ask my client to track down the thief? Or produce footage from a security camera that never existed? Or travel back in time in a time machine?We may as well take the reasoning to its logical conclusion.

The moment you feel like giving up

By this point, almost ten years have passed. Hearings. Written submissions. Legal costs. Hundreds of miles travelled.One disappointment after another. Mrs C. is exhausted. Quietly, she says to me:

“Maître… I think this is the end.”

I understand her discouragement.But something still doesn’t sit right with me.

In truth the entire case comes down to a single question. Who was required to prove what? And it is precisely that question that changes everything.

The French Supreme Court steps in

We decided to take the case to the French Supreme Court. For those unfamiliar with the French legal system, the Supreme Court is rather like the teacher of the lower courts. It doesn’t hear the case all over again. Its job is to decide whether the law has been applied correctly. And this time it reads the file. It reviews the earlier judgments. Then it reminds everyone of a remarkably simple legal principle. When someone has custody of another person’s property and returns it damaged or in a deteriorated condition, it is not for the owner to prove that the custodian was at fault. It is for the custodian to prove that they took all reasonable steps to protect the property. In other words simply saying,

“I was the victim of a break-in,”

is not enough. The custodian must also show that every reasonable precaution had been taken to prevent it. Were there alarms? Adequate security? Protective measures? Appropriate safeguards? The earlier courts had never asked that fundamental question.

Instead, they had reversed the burden of proof. And in law…that is far from a mere technicality. The Supreme Court therefore quashes the Court of Appeal’s judgment and sends the case back to a different Court of Appeal to be heard again.

The best moment of all

A few days after the Supreme Court’s decision Mrs C. comes back to see me. She walks into my office wearing the biggest smile. In her hands, a bottle of champagne. I look at it and tease her.

“You’re sure it’s complete? Nobody removed the cork, the neck and half the bottle before giving it back to you?” 

She bursts out laughing. So do I. After almost ten years of litigation that laugh was worth more than all the courtroom victories in the world.

The lesson

This case reminds us of something fundamental. Justice is rarely a straight line. You can lose at first instance. Lose again on appeal. And still be legally right. Sometimes all it takes is patience. Determination.And a lawyer who refuses to accept that a bad decision must therefore be the correct one.

Because in law, just as in mechanics sometimes you have to take an argument completely apart before you can finally put it back together again.