It was Sarah’s first visit to court for a ‘directions’ hearing.  Anna, Jason and Jess spent the morning at day nursery while David gave his mother moral support.  Just walking into the bleak, unfriendly, daunting building sent a chill down Sarah’s spine.  It was as if there was an evil spirit lurking in the shadows, signifying that this place was anything but a venue for justice and propriety.  It had a smell of greed, lies and deception.  She sat on an uninviting bench and glanced about herself, nervously, noticing other men and women also sitting on edge waiting on what looked to her like ‘death row’.  Solicitors and barristers milled about in their smart professional attire, sporting neat black briefcases or wads of documents and files stuffed under their armpits.  They spoke in hushed tones to each other and to their clients, doing deals, shuffling in and out of little rooms like secret service agents, carefully contriving some sort of covert action in some communist country.  While all the time they were PRETENDING, pretending to be interested in and supportive of their unfortunate insignificant clients and pretending to be doing their bit to ensure justice in society.  It all smacked of something sinister, self-satisfying and self-serving - of lining the pockets of lawyers and so-called justices of the peace.  Sarah couldn’t help thinking, cynically, that it was these very people in all countries who were, in fact, responsible for the trouble and strife of citizens in all societies rather than the peace, which they would try to have you believe.

            The Devil’s advocate sat opposite sat her, with dreadful Donna Black and poor little Bethan.  Sarah deliberately avoided his gaze.  She wasn’t going to give him the pleasure of any eye contact.  This was gloves off time.  But she couldn’t help noticing the ample sized band aid covering his chubby hand and with a proud grin and glint in her eye, poked her son in the ribs and pointed out the wound that he’d inflicted.  David returned her smug look and smiled knowingly; then he whispered to his mum:

          “We shouldn’t be sitting here waiting for some bloke in a cloak to decide who the babies should live with.  That creep isn’t fit to look after a budgie, never mind a kid.  He should be in prison.  He doesn’t deserve to even see Jason and Jessie; not even for a minute.”

            “Well exactly, and hopefully the magistrate will agree with you and he’ll be denied any contact; but somehow I have my doubts.  None of it seems to be about what’s right.  If it was, geysers like him opposite would get their just deserts and the world would be a nicer, safer place.”

            Jimmy Oliver and Kelvin Boor engaged in a tete-a-tete behind the closed door of one of the little rooms, deciding the fate of little Jason and Jessica.  You’d think they were best buddies enjoying a lunchtime tipple rather than opposing solicitors.  Every so often they’d surface and share bits of information with their respective clients.  Meanwhile Donna Black stood outside alone, puffing earnestly on a ciggie, while David and Bethan amused themselves pulling funny faces at each other and exchanging mysterious hand gestures and special sign language that only kids know how.

            Sarah and Greg were hauled in front of the resident Welfare Officer to explain why they couldn’t agree on where Jason and Jessica should live and what the contact arrangements should be for the other parent.  Sarah explained that she could not allow contact because of the grave concerns she had for the safety of her babies while in Greg’s care.  She stressed his heavy dependency on alcohol and his history of violence towards his own children and hers.  He responded by declaring that it was she who was the alcoholic and that he was not a violent man.  He stressed that his children would testify that he was a loving, caring father and that Sarah’s children were liars and known troublemakers.  Sarah began to point out the details of harassment endured and that she’d been forced to call the police out on numerous occasions until Greg butted in loudly, insisting that the police were in agreement with him about her making wild exaggerated claims and calling them out unnecessarily and maliciously.  The court welfare officer then barged in, asserting that allegations of harassment were a separate issue anyway and not to be confused with living and access arrangements regarding the children.  She also pointed out that the police will not take sides and cannot be used by either of the parties as back up to their assertions and she insisted that it was always in the child’s best interests to have contact with both parents.  She rammed the nails further in to Sarah’s coffin by stressing to her and Greg that in domestic cases, there was always an element of blame on both sides, that neither were innocent and that they must both work together for the well being of their children.

            At this point the atmosphere was electric, tempers were bubbling over, voices were raised and the entire confrontation had achieved…. Nothing.  It was stalemate.  And all because one was battling hard to get the truth on the table for the sake of protecting Jason and Jessica and the other was proving to be an extremely effective liar.  Eventually they were both turfed out.  Greg had a nauseous grin that stretched from one earlobe to the other and Sarah was seething under her skin after trying desperately to convey to the blockheaded welfare officer the harmful reality of the situation - her words having stumbled on deaf ears.  The court welfare officer simply hadn’t been interested in the facts.

            Jimmy Oliver put it bluntly to Sarah that these whole proceedings were about damage limitation.  He pointed out that her reviled ex was going to get some form of contact, their job was to limit the amount.  He said that even the most vilest of sex offenders get some contact, even if it is initially supervised.  Sarah sat silently listening to this guy laying down the law and couldn’t help thinking that he wouldn’t be so blasé if he was facing the prospect of his kids being forced to have regular contact with a child abuser.  Oh no, he’d be fighting like buggery then for a change to such an absurd, wicked and immoral rule.  The likes of him were engaged in a sordid business transaction only.  She felt sure though that his type would one day live to regret not dealing with guilty men appropriately, because sooner or later he or a member of his family would be a victim of a guy like Greg.

            He then twittered on about various stories [which Sarah had a feeling were fictitious] of women that he knew who stubbornly refused the fathers any access to their children.  This resulted in judges forming the opinion that since some mothers were unjustifiably hostile, the fathers in such cases should be awarded residence and the mother weekend contact only, on the justification that it was important for the child to see both parents and in order for this to be achieved this was the best arrangement.  He added that these were extreme cases but that the point of the matter was that it was better to be seen offering something rather than categorically refusing all contact.  He further informed her that she’d get an opportunity to spell out her reservations in more depth to another welfare officer but that in the meantime she was strongly being urged to yield a little and agree to a one-hour visitation at Christmas.  The opposition had requested it and Jimmy Oliver felt sure that a token gesture such as this would bode well for a final outcome in the proceedings.  What could Sarah say?  The whole system stank of schemes, tactics, pacts, trickery, appeasement…. It was nothing to do with the protection and welfare of children and everything to do with pretence, perversion of the truth, blame shifting and neutrality.

            Sarah felt obliged to trust her legal beadle and to accept that his advice was well intentioned.  What other choice did she have?  It was agreed, painfully reluctantly on Sarah’s part, but she stipulated that it must be in a supervised setting since she was genuinely worried that Greg may harm the babies.  His threats were still raw in her mind.  The smarmy toad was happy to oblige but he did insist that she was not to be present, stressing that it would be unfair on him if she were there because the babies would be distracted.  They agreed on the church as a meeting place because it and its elders were familiar to both Greg and Sarah as they’d visited it before in a last ditch [failed] attempt to salvage their tattered relationship and for Greg to kick the booze.  The day in question was going to be xmas eve.

            As they walked out of that foreboding, demoralizing place the devil’s disciple beamed.  He breezed past Sarah and jeered in her ear:

            “Hah; you’re going to lose the babies.  You’ll see.  You’ll never win.  Not against me.  The court is on my side.  You’ve already lost, my love.”