"F**k you. F**k you a** hole. I'm off to Australia. I'm working all day at the girls school. Not going to court any more. F**k you. Ps I hate you".
We'll see.
Monday, 13.07.2009, Rhyl District Court, 9:45am. Rhyl's courthouse, pictured here, is a bland and unremarkable venue. District Judges must curse when their duty rosters flag a spell at Rhyl. Still, Court is Court. I headed up the stairs to the waiting room. I knew the routine. "Good morning", I announced, looking around for signs of Jon, my lawyer. "I am here for the 10:15. Directions hearing. Galloway. Who's sitting this morning?", I calmly fired at the security guard. ""Ah, yes sir, you are the first here today. Are you acting for the applicant, 1st respondent, or second respondent?", came the reply.
What it is about me? When I partied with Andrew and his banking friends from National Westminster Bank and latterly Deutsche Bank in London, I was regularly mistaken for the maitre d' at London's finer watering holes. I have subsequently been mistaken for a head office manager of grocery store Tesco, a 5 star hotel manager, and a consular diplomat. The lowest common denominator appears to have been either a dinner suit or a lounge suit, and simply standing still. Today, I just needed to be recognized as a single father. One day maybe I will be regarded as an eligible bachelor.
"No", I smiled, "today Mark", I said glancing at his badge, "I am just a Dad."
***
Tuesday 14.07.2009, 11:30am, Lion Quays Health Resort, Oswestry. I never expected that one day I would be wandering around a health resort as a PE instructor. Rather, a martial artist. I am not sure if it is a step up or a step down, and I do not care. The tenure is immensely entertaining, and now that I am on the other side of the fence I imagine I might find out if PE instructors are as lucky with the girls as they are supposed to be. Not that I am bothered. By and large, the opposite sex is taxing me this month.Monday did not go badly. Tuesday just had a better feel about it. Monday was business. Andrea avoided her obligations to the Court, and the Court explained to me that they were powerless to intervene. Really. I mean, really. A Court? Powerless to intervene? One judge, three lawyers, a social services officer, and Andrea was working her magic and running circles around them all. Suddenly, I did not feel so stupid. One thing about an alcoholic is that they can give anyone a run for their money.
I lost patience on Monday. I promised my girls I would do everything I could to help get Mum back on track. The Court was letting Andrea off the hook. Letting Andrea lampoon Her Majesty's Court Service was not going to happen if I could help it.
A couple of months ago Mountain Rescue passed me over for the solitary reason that I was a single parent, and if I fell off a mountain on night duty, the girls would not have a parent to wake up to the next morning. At the time I felt a pang of injustice. Meanwhile my ex, flouting court orders, obligations to her daughters, and now evidently planning a sojourn in Australia, had iced her cake by getting a job as a supposed role model to students for business, and was spearheading a government backed project in North Wales by visiting schools and advising children about lifestyle, self employment, and self motivation. Apart from the predictably appalling aptitude of those strange government vehicles called quangos the likes of which sponsored Andrea, just how could that be?
I did not know the full extent of Andrea's activity with children until I talked to the school nurse to get my facts straight after Court. I was highly motivated by her answers. Yes, Andrea was working at my daughters' school on the same day that she was supposed to be at Court. She was lecturing children about the virtues of alcoholic abstinence and self employment. Worse, she was due in school the next day, too.Enough. This was a magnitude of revelation beyond my comprehension. I acted without the judge, without the lawyers, without social services. Just me and my telephone. Andrea will not be returning to my daughters' school again, and she will not be visiting any more schools, at least until she answers a few questions before the bench in October. A Court Order must be seen to have standing, whether a judge is prepared to enforce it or not.
Will Andrea show up in October? Doubtful. It would mean an admission of lies and perjury, to say the least. If Andrea shows up - well - the girls want Andrea to engage after all. What's another 6 months of psychiatric assessments? Career? What is a job but just a job? Some people would probably consider a position at Lion Quays a considerable achievement, ensconced among marble pillars and pristine trappings. Wealth. Wealth does not come from a wallet, though. It comes from the heart.
SMS to Andrea, Monday, 13 July, 2009, 4:45pm:
"Sorry you missed Court today. The school was mortified about the confusion. Your boss was mortified too. He says there will be no conflict with the directions hearing in October, and the Judge is writing to you to confirm the date. See you there."
2 comments:
What a thought provoking blog!
I'm surprised about the mountain rescue discrimination - I'm guessing that all hell would break loose if a female wasn't given a job solely because she was a single parent!
But perhaps not getting that job is a blessing. I'm sure that working at the Lion Quays, rather than up a mountain, is a lot more luxurious & less dangerous - depending, of course, on how many women you meet! I think you have learnt from experience that women have the potential to be more dangerous than mountains!!
I was a bit disappointed at first. They have their methods, I guess. Shortly after the episode, a fellow from one of the mountain rescue teams in Snowdonia came a cropper, so I am sure their decision was founded in pragmatism.
http://www.newswales.co.uk/?section=Community&F=1&id=16765
I don't think you can avoid discrimination. Men don't sometimes get a fair hand as single parents, but then women sometimes do not get paid as much as men. I guess if you want something, you just have to go get it, in which discrimination becomes a moot point!
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