Elizabeth Booth spent years perfecting the batter, mastering the fryers and knowing exactly how the regulars liked their mushy peas at La Mirage, the landmark fish and chip shop perched on the North Coast 500 in Helmsdale. But when the owner transferred the alcohol licence into his own name without a word, then failed to document what happened to a box of scampi crawling with frozen flies, the message became impossible to ignore: her experience no longer mattered. An employment tribunal in Aberdeen has now awarded her £34,312.89, ruling that a “sustained pattern of communication failures” amounted to constructive dismissal.
A licence lost without a conversation
For decades, Booth held the premises licence for La Mirage. It was a tangible mark of her standing in the business, displayed on the wall for staff and customers to see. When Haydar Baran acquired the restaurant, that certificate came down. His went up. No discussion. No handover. Just a quiet erasure of her authority.
The tribunal heard that Booth felt “undermined” and that her status “diminished in the eyes of colleagues.” Employment Judge Robert Phillips noted the move was not merely administrative — it struck at the heart of her professional identity. “The way in which the matter was handled undermined [Mrs Booth’s] position and standing within the organisation,” the judgment reads.
The box of scampi that broke the silence
Then came 2024. A delivery of frozen scampi arrived. Booth opened the box and found flies, frozen solid among the breaded pieces. She reported it immediately to Baran. The kitchen porter removed the stock, placed it in a plastic container, and the owner contacted the supplier.
But nothing was written down. No record of the complaint. No confirmation the contaminated batch was returned. No proof the replacement came at the supplier’s cost.
The tribunal was clear: there was no evidence the tainted scampi reached a single plate. That was not the point. “Without transparently setting out these actions,” the judgment states, “[Mrs Booth] reasonably apprehended that the contaminated scampi was to be cooked and sold, as well as the replacement scampi.”
For a cook who took pride in standards, the silence was deafening.
Mayonnaise, mushy peas and the final straw
Months later, a delivery of mayonnaise arrived damaged. Booth was told it had been binned. She accepted that. Then she learned the truth: the contents had been decanted into tubs and used in food preparation.
The misinformation stung. It wasn’t the mayonnaise itself — it was the lie.
The end came on 24 May 2025. A new, unwritten policy: serve regular customers first. Booth didn’t know. When an order came through without mushy peas — because the regular hadn’t been served yet — she was confused. Asked to prepare a portion she thought wasn’t needed, her authority crumbled in real time.
She walked out that day. Her employment ended instantly.
Why it Matters
This case is a reminder that constructive dismissal rarely hinges on a single dramatic event. It lives in the accumulated weight of being excluded from decisions you’re qualified to make, of watching standards slip without accountability, of realising your voice has been quietly switched off. For small businesses — especially those trading on reputation along tourist routes like the NC500 — the cost of sidelining experienced staff runs far deeper than a tribunal award. Trust, once broken, doesn’t come back with the next season’s tourists.
