Then came the dreaded call in the early hours of 13 June. The moment I heard his voice I felt like hot concrete had been poured into my marrow. I was rooted to the spot and I instantly broke into a cold sweat. There wasn’t a trace of slurring, his voice was calm and measured with a sting.
He said that he had enjoyed some holiday time away and was back bearing ‘big guns’. The guns being inferred legal strength to start causing (yet more) havoc in my life. I made it clear that I wasn’t going to be going for anything in terms of alimony etc. I wanted nothing from him (except my peace). It seemed to be fine to him that I wasn’t going to try to take anything from him, but he was sure going to try to take from me.
He started ranting about the dining table that we had purchased before the great unravelling and the air conditioning that we had installed. After a few minutes of this he then said, and the girls, I have rights. This was the first time through all this that he had made the slightest reference to the girls.
His priorities were interesting.