They began with such good intentions: 12 men and women who wanted to consider the evidence of an alleged fertiliser bomb plot over six months to the best of their abilities. Thirteen months and £50 million later, the intensity and personal sacrifice of trying one of the longest and most expensive cases in history had taken its toll, according to one juror.

Michael Symes, 44, a computer consultant, has described to The Times the workings of the Old Bailey trial that finally ended this week.

Many of the group had begun to dislike each other intensely; some had become close friends, holiday partners and drinking pals; others had lost their jobs; and their marriages had suffered.

Mr Symes is the first juror to speak out and has explained how the seemingly never-ending trial had exacerbated friction between jurors and led to squabbles. The disclosure comes as the Attorney-General announced this week that he would examine the way in which the trial was conducted to see whether any lessons can be learnt.

Mr Symes said that some days were wasted by jurors faking illness or “taking the soft option” when offered an opportunity to finish early. The court also spent too much time pandering to the religious sensitivities of the accused during Ramadan, he suggested.

The claims will force a further reexamination of the court system, which has become beset by delays because of increasingly lengthy and costly terrorism cases.

The case was delayed repeatedly by sickness, technical problems, religious holidays and legal wrangles at huge expense to the public purse. The jury then took 27 days — a record — to deliver its verdicts.

On a personal level, Mr Symes said that his business had collapsed and that he had almost signed off with stress while during Britain’s longest terrorist trial. “I stuck it out for a year because I believed I was doing my duty, and I actually enjoyed the responsibility. But it was a jolly for a year for some people. That upset me at times,” he said.

The Old Bailey trial of seven alleged terrorists ran for 13 months — twice as long as predicted — even before the jury was sent out in March. They deliberated for a record time of 27 days, returning guilty verdicts against Omar Khyam and four other defendants.

Speaking from his semidetached house, Mr Symes said that he had to wind up his business as he was called for jury service just five months after setting it up. Throughout the trial he was paid at the rate he had been earning when his business was in its infancy, not what it could have been making when up and running. He is now earning nothing and said: “We’ve just been dropped [by the court]. Proper job applications weren’t possible until it was all over.”

The court compensates jurors by matching their salaries, up to a cap of £116.78 a day. After 200 days this upper limit rises to £200. But despite being hurt financially Mr Symes was enthusiastic from the start about his part in the case, and remains so.

The panel of five women and seven men, of all ages and backgrounds, was selected in February last year from 125 potential jurors. When told that the case was expected to last six months, most of those shortlisted tried to be excused. But Mr Symes wrote on his form: “It is my duty to serve.”

He said: “I had a really strong desire to be involved. I’d never been given any responsible position in life. I thought it was just nice to be in that situation, doing something really important.”

Some jury members used to go drinking after court, he claimed. Others became so close that they went on a sailing holiday together during one of the allocated breaks.

Mr Symes, who lives with his Russian wife Tatiana, a magazine journalist, said: “Most of them regularly went to the pub. I didn’t think it was appropriate. I felt they thought I was miserable but I wasn’t there to make friends.

“I went to the pub once — it didn’t make sense to me. They had barbecues and people went away on holiday, about four of them, on a boat. I think there will have been some good friendships out of it.”

As the trial progressed, and summer began, increasing numbers of days were lost to illness. Mr Symes said: “There was an awful lot of sickness early on — a Monday-or-Friday-off-sick situation. We did get sent home because some people said they were ill when they weren’t.

“If the judge gave us a choice, would we consider something now or tomorrow morning, we always went for the soft option. I didn’t like it.”

The jury sat from 10.30am to 4pm with an hour for lunch. Towards the end, they also had morning and afternoon cigarette breaks. The days became even shorter during Ramadan when the court sat for just 3½ hours a day because of concerns that the defendants would not be able to concentrate on evidence whilst fasting.

“The court was a bit too PC. I was amazed during Ramadan,” he said.

When not in Court 8 they were in a separate room with two kettles and a noticeboard on which was a list of “don’ts” (including leaning out of windows). Mobile phones were banned.

As the trial dragged on, rituals developed among the jurors and their demands becamse increasingly petty, Mr Symes said. “Some jurors moaned about almost everything — like if the court usher forgot to bring in the cold box from the bottom of the staff fridge for them to put their sandwiches in in the morning. Another time they asked for a toaster. I said, ‘Would you like armchairs as well?’ ” The toaster request was turned down on health and safety grounds.

The jurors were from a range of racial groups and classes. Inevitably, they occasionally came into conflict, he said. “There were personality clashes. I thought when it finished I was going to lay into some people but I let it go.”

The jury submitted more than 100 notes throughout the trial asking numerous questions, some of which Mr Symes described as obviously irrelevant. “I was embarrassed by the questions. People were asking too many, trying to show off, being attention seekers.”

Tensions came to a head in March when the jury retired to consider a verdict, and had to select a foreman. Four people put their names forward, including Mr Symes. Two then dropped out.

“The vote was 6-6 for both of us, then we had another vote and it was 7-5 against me. I completely lost it at that point. I swore and insulted them as a group. I was really stressed. I don’t know why I overreacted the way I did. It wasn’t anything personal.

“I went to the toilet and splashed water on my face. I don’t remember what happened after that. I went to see the court matron. I nearly got signed off and relieved of my duties.

“We all went home and I saw my doctor that Friday afternoon. I thought, ‘That’s it, finished’. He signed me off until Sunday. I spoke to the court clerk and said I wasn’t coming in on the Monday, but that morning I felt a lot better and changed my mind. I was fine with the others after that.”

What had at first seemed to be fascinating case soon had a dire effect on the lives of some jurors. Two lost their jobs; another was on benefits for a year because an offer of work fell through shortly before jury service began, Mr Symes said.

The jury took longer than any in history to return its verdict. Mr Symes said: “I don’t think it’s something to be proud of, that we lasted too long, but I think we did it very well.”

After returning their verdicts, the jurors were discharged and given back their mobile phones. Some called friends and were amazed to find out about the connection between some of the defendants and the July 7 bomb-ers Mohammad Sidique Khan and Shehzad Tanweer.

Mr Symes said: “It really took me by surprise and made me happier about the decisions. One juror rang someone to say we’d returned our verdicts only to be told, ‘Yes I’m watching it on the news’. When people found out [about the July 7 link] they said, ‘Oh my God!’ ” Some critics have said that juries should be told of any evidence that links defendants with known terrorists. But Mr Symes was pleased that the jury were not told of the July 7 links. “It’s probably best to be objective in evidence,” he said.

He found it frustrating and stressful not to be able to talk about the case with his wife. She said: “He was very aggressive for the whole year because he was frustrated. In the morning I did sandwiches for him as if he was going off to work. He was always exhausted after coming home.”

The couple produce a Russian/British magazine called From Russia With Love, but did not have the time to publish editions during the trial. They were also unable to afford a trip abroad, as all breaks coincided with the school holidays.

Mr Symes said: “There was no freedom to take random days off. There was a sense of your life being on hold. [What was worst was] just now knowing when it would come to an end. It stretched from six to eight, nine, ten months. It was very, very boring at times.”

But, despite the emotional and financial strain, he would like to serve again on a jury or work at the Old Bailey. “It’s a relief it’s over. I really wanted it to finish. At the end of it I said to a couple of people, ‘Have a nice life’ and that was it.

“I’d be tempted to sit in the public gallery of another case and I thought about getting a job at the Old Bailey doing computing. I’m a pedant — I believe a job is worth doing well and there were so many spelling mistakes in the evidence. I thought, ‘I could do this much better’.

“I still would have wanted to do it [jury service], even knowing about the finances. I’d definitely do it again. I’d like to be a full-time juror.

“It was fascinating — you get to see things you wouldn’t normally see. It’s the best job I ever had.”

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