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Authors: Sam Archer
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agreed, thankful for the privilege of having his daughter live with him and more than magnanimous in granting visiting rights to her mother.
Then the phone call had come, several weeks earlier when he’d been in the playground talking to Chloe, and Rebecca had announced that she wanted sole custody, wanted Kelly to live with her and the new guy. Tom had hung up on her. She’d phoned again, and eventually they’d held a conversation of sorts, in which he made his position as clear as he could: over my dead body . Rebecca had texted him a few days ago, asking for a meeting, and he’d agreed, assuming as he’d told her earlier that she was going to bring out the legal papers.
‘You could visit,’ Rebecca said. ‘Often.’
He pictured it. The Sunday trips by car to London, the day of frenetic “fun” activities while his heart broke again and again every time he looked at his daughter. The agony of separation at the end, and the dreary slog back home, alone.
‘Forget it,’ he said quietly. ‘It’s not going to happen.’
Rebecca drew a long breath. The last time Tom remembered her doing that was just before she announced to him she was having an affair with Andrew.
‘There’s something else,’ she said.
Tom waited.
She looked him full in the face. ‘Andrew and I are moving to France,’ she said. ‘We want Kelly to come with us.’
He was silent. The news might have floored him, but instead Tom felt numbed.
‘Then that’s clinched it,’ he said. ‘I’m not going to discuss this any further.’
‘Tom, you’d –’
‘You had your chance, Rebecca, and you passed it up. I’ve been more than reasonable in letting Kelly visit you over the last year and a half, both when we lived in London and since we moved. You can’t deny that. And I’m happy for that to continue. But for her to come and live with you, for her to move abroad… no.’
‘You’d better listen to what I have to say.’
He stood up. ‘This conversation, and this visit, is over. Please leave.’
Rebecca remained seated. ‘You can’t win this.’
‘Oh, but I can. And I will.’
‘I’ll get the lawyers involved if I have to.’
‘Do your worst.’
‘The courts will always look favourably on the mother in a case like this.’
‘Not if she’s already renounced custody once before.’
This time she did stand. She took a step forward. Almost as tall as he was, around five feet ten in her heels, her gaze was level with his.
‘This could get very, very nasty, Tom.’
‘It already is.’
Her tone became soft, as close to menacing as he’d ever heard her.
‘You have no idea what I’m capable of. No idea.’
‘I’m starting to get an inkling.’ He held out an arm towards the front door. ‘Go, Rebecca. Please.’
He watched her stalk off towards the Mercedes and disappear in a squeal of tyres. She didn’t look back.
Tom closed the front door and leaned heavily against it, his eyes closed. He felt utterly drained, more so than he had after some of the thirty-hour shifts he’d done as a junior hospital doctor.
You have no idea what I’m capable of.
What had she meant by it? He supposed it was bluster, empty threats. Yes, she had a point that the courts tended to favour the mother in custody battles. But he was of excellent character, and had a steady, respectable job. And, as he’d reminded her, she had voluntarily ceded custody of Kelly to him at the time of the divorce.
Feeling light-headed and a little shaky, Tom got ready to return to work.
***
‘No bother at all,’ said Mrs McFarland, studying Jake fondly as he toyed around Chloe’s legs. The two women were seated at Mrs McFarland’s kitchen table having a cup of tea. Chloe had entered the cottage to the sounds of her son’s raucous, uninhibited laughter, and Mrs McFarland said he’d been in high spirits all afternoon.
Margaret wanted of course to know all about Chloe’s “assignment”, as she called it. Chloe said she
Then the phone call had come, several weeks earlier when he’d been in the playground talking to Chloe, and Rebecca had announced that she wanted sole custody, wanted Kelly to live with her and the new guy. Tom had hung up on her. She’d phoned again, and eventually they’d held a conversation of sorts, in which he made his position as clear as he could: over my dead body . Rebecca had texted him a few days ago, asking for a meeting, and he’d agreed, assuming as he’d told her earlier that she was going to bring out the legal papers.
‘You could visit,’ Rebecca said. ‘Often.’
He pictured it. The Sunday trips by car to London, the day of frenetic “fun” activities while his heart broke again and again every time he looked at his daughter. The agony of separation at the end, and the dreary slog back home, alone.
‘Forget it,’ he said quietly. ‘It’s not going to happen.’
Rebecca drew a long breath. The last time Tom remembered her doing that was just before she announced to him she was having an affair with Andrew.
‘There’s something else,’ she said.
Tom waited.
She looked him full in the face. ‘Andrew and I are moving to France,’ she said. ‘We want Kelly to come with us.’
He was silent. The news might have floored him, but instead Tom felt numbed.
‘Then that’s clinched it,’ he said. ‘I’m not going to discuss this any further.’
‘Tom, you’d –’
‘You had your chance, Rebecca, and you passed it up. I’ve been more than reasonable in letting Kelly visit you over the last year and a half, both when we lived in London and since we moved. You can’t deny that. And I’m happy for that to continue. But for her to come and live with you, for her to move abroad… no.’
‘You’d better listen to what I have to say.’
He stood up. ‘This conversation, and this visit, is over. Please leave.’
Rebecca remained seated. ‘You can’t win this.’
‘Oh, but I can. And I will.’
‘I’ll get the lawyers involved if I have to.’
‘Do your worst.’
‘The courts will always look favourably on the mother in a case like this.’
‘Not if she’s already renounced custody once before.’
This time she did stand. She took a step forward. Almost as tall as he was, around five feet ten in her heels, her gaze was level with his.
‘This could get very, very nasty, Tom.’
‘It already is.’
Her tone became soft, as close to menacing as he’d ever heard her.
‘You have no idea what I’m capable of. No idea.’
‘I’m starting to get an inkling.’ He held out an arm towards the front door. ‘Go, Rebecca. Please.’
He watched her stalk off towards the Mercedes and disappear in a squeal of tyres. She didn’t look back.
Tom closed the front door and leaned heavily against it, his eyes closed. He felt utterly drained, more so than he had after some of the thirty-hour shifts he’d done as a junior hospital doctor.
You have no idea what I’m capable of.
What had she meant by it? He supposed it was bluster, empty threats. Yes, she had a point that the courts tended to favour the mother in custody battles. But he was of excellent character, and had a steady, respectable job. And, as he’d reminded her, she had voluntarily ceded custody of Kelly to him at the time of the divorce.
Feeling light-headed and a little shaky, Tom got ready to return to work.
***
‘No bother at all,’ said Mrs McFarland, studying Jake fondly as he toyed around Chloe’s legs. The two women were seated at Mrs McFarland’s kitchen table having a cup of tea. Chloe had entered the cottage to the sounds of her son’s raucous, uninhibited laughter, and Mrs McFarland said he’d been in high spirits all afternoon.
Margaret wanted of course to know all about Chloe’s “assignment”, as she called it. Chloe said she
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