Sticks and Stones (13 page)

He lowered his hand, grinning. ‘Sorry. Um, hello.' He held a manila envelope and read from a sheet clipped to the front. ‘Matilda Anne Hampton?'

Maddie froze, staring. After a few moments, she nodded slowly. She could feel Guess trying to wriggle his way around her foot, so she slid it sideways, just a little, barring him from the doorway. Matilda Anne Hampton. She let the words slink through again, to make sure that they had been the ones she heard, and then suddenly became aware that the man had continued speaking. ‘Pardon?'

‘Are you the person named as the respondent in this application?' He was holding the envelope out, like a religious offering, with the clipped sheet facing her. There was a small photograph attached to the top right-hand side and, amazingly, it was of her. But much younger. Looking down slightly to one side and laughing at someone or something just beyond the frame.

Maddie's eyes lingered on the photo for a moment and then flicked to the paper and the sections printed in bold.
Affidavit of Service. Applicant: Jacob Francis Hampton. Respondent: Matilda Anne Hampton.
Then she shook her head.

‘You're not?' The young man frowned, glancing down at the photograph and then back again.

‘What's this about?' asked Maddie, her voice coming out hoarse.

‘I'm just the process server. You'll have to read the papers yourself. But I'd really appreciate it if you signed this.' He dug a pen out of his shirt pocket and held it out. ‘Makes it easier, you know. For me.'

‘What happens if I don't sign it?'

He shrugged. ‘Won't matter much in the long run. I just have to swear I identified you from the photo instead. You still get the papers.'

Maddie slowly took the pen. The girl in the photograph was staring straight at her hand, still vastly amused, as it hovered over the signature block and then moved rapidly across the page. Maddie handed back the pen and watched as the young man unclipped the sheet of paper from the envelope. She realised suddenly that she'd signed
M. Hampton
without even thinking. He pushed the envelope forward, so that it was only centimetres from her chest, and Maddie had no choice but to take it. Then he gave her one last grin, an oddly sympathetic one, and turned, taking the front steps two at a time. The single, signed sheet of paper flapped in the breeze as he crossed the lawn. Maddie stood still, holding the envelope out as if hoping someone else, in turn, would take it from her. Like a game of pass the parcel, except that she was alone. And the winner is . . .

Guess finally managed to squeeze his way through Maddie's legs and ran out onto the front porch, barking wildly at the departing figure of the process server. It was this sudden noise that broke Maddie out of her reverie and she blinked, then leant forward and used the envelope to slap Guess lightly across the head. ‘Guess! Don't be ridiculous. C'mon. Inside.'

The dog gave one last high-pitched bark for good measure, and then ran back with his tail wagging. He looked up at Maddie, clearly delighted with his performance and needing validation.
D'you see that? Huh? Got rid of him, didn't I? Huh? Huh?

Maddie closed the door, using her knee to jam it back into position. She carried the envelope into the kitchen where steam was now rolling up from the kettle and billowing across the ceiling. Maddie turned it off and sat down at the table, pushing the postcards to one side and then turning the envelope over to see if there were any identifying marks. But there was just a rectangular white sticker with her details. Matilda Anne Hampton. It even sounded strange.

And Maddie knew, unquestioningly, that this envelope wasn't good. She had known that from the moment the young man said her name, and that piece of knowledge had settled in the pit of her stomach like lead. The envelope was a black crow, a harbinger of bad news, the thing that always appeared in movies just before something dreadful, or
someone
dreadful, came along. She reached out to move the postcards further away and then, almost as an afterthought, lined them up neatly with the edge of the table for luck.

Guess pushed his head against her leg but Maddie ignored him. Instead she stared at the envelope intently, as if by doing so she would draw away some of its power, and then she counted the seconds between blinks. The longer she could last, the better things would be. Finally she lifted the envelope, just slightly, and pulled open the flap, letting the contents slide out and across the table before her.

There were papers, a lot of papers. All of them quite clearly legal. The lead in Maddie's stomach solidified. A splash of colour, albeit sedate, attracted her so she reached out and separated it from the rest. It was a brochure, called
Marriage, Families and Separation
. Maddie flicked it back into the pile and picked up the nearest sheet of A4, frowning with surprise when she realised it was an affidavit from Dana, Jake's eldest sister.

I, Dana Louise Fielding of 15 Outlook Drive, Yea

whose occupation is General Manager make oath and say/affirm: that I have always found my brother Jacob Hampton to be of excellent character and an upstanding member of society. He is godparent to one of my children and a devoted father to his own. He has always been fully employed and was an excellent provider for his family, also displaying strong involvement in the children's educational and social activities. On the other hand it is my opinion that Matilda Hampton displayed increasingly erratic and aggressive behaviour, as well as a total unwillingness to commit to shared care, prior to taking the children six years ago. The emotional turmoil this caused my brother is indescribable. I also believe that it is indicative of my brother's character that he did not seek recovery orders at this time, preferring instead to hire a private detective and thus minimise psychological distress to his children. I believe that it is in everyone's best interests, including the mother, that the children live with their father.

Maddie stared at the sheet of paper, her gut twisting.
Increasingly erratic and aggressive behaviour
. She thought that if she died, right now, she could be peeled open to reveal gnarled lead within. She pushed the affidavit aside and underneath was another, this one from Jake's boss. Great guy, incredibly reliable, top accountant, salt of the earth. Absolutely devoted to his kids.

Maddie thrust it away with a low sound that made Guess prick up his ears. Underneath she caught a glimpse of a stapled set of papers with a heading in large, bold type so she separated this out and then froze, staring.
Notice of Child Abuse or Family Violence.
Her mouth opened as she read it through again, and for a moment she thought, this is it, it's all out in the open at last. He has outed
himself
. But that made no sense. Even as these thoughts chased each other through her head, Maddie glanced down the page to a section that requested the applicant's name: Jacob Hampton. She flicked the sheet over and read on, with rapidly increasing disbelief, past his personal details and the name of the newly appointed independent children's lawyer and then the children's names. And over the page again, until here, finally, was a question that asked
about
the abuse, and the identity of the abuser: Matilda Anne Hampton.

Maddie stared at her name, and then reached out and touched it with one finger, as if needing tactile confirmation. The identity of the abuser. And sure enough there were her offences, neatly typed in dot points for easy reading. Physical aggression. Emotional manipulation. Family violence. Parental alienation syndrome. Maddie made another noise, louder this time, and then suddenly picked up the whole sheaf and flung it across the table as if it were toxic. She stared as it came to settle on the other side, pages spread in a lumpy fan. The lead within had started to bubble, coming slowly to the boil. Bastard.
Bastard
. She swiped through the remaining papers, not really sure what she was looking for but confident she would know when she found it. And then there it was. Another set of stapled papers, this time even thicker.
Initiating Application (Family Law). Orders sought: Children (parenting).

Maddie suddenly realised that she was crying, and had been for some time. Almost numbly, she tried to clear her mind enough to make sense of what she was reading. What she had
known
she would be reading, but still hadn't been able to prepare herself for. That interim parenting orders were required with some urgency, given the prior abuse,
her
prior abuse, particularly her predisposition towards emotional manipulation of the children, and the mother's history as a flight risk. Coupled with the children's
right
to have a meaningful relationship with
both
parents, and the mother's proven preference to deny them this right. Orders that would have both children living permanently with their father. Time spent with the mother recommended, but only under supervision.

She stared at the paper for some time, marvelling that she could feel so blunted and yet so razor-sharp furious at the same time. Furious at Jake for doing this, furious at the system for allowing him, but most of all furious at herself for not having seen it coming. How could she have convinced herself that he would simply settle for shared care, after what she had done? But, oh
god
, why couldn't he have? They
could
have worked it out this time, she was absolutely sure.

Guess whined, a low poignant sound that made Maddie glance down. The dog still stood by her chair, gazing at her with liquid brown eyes that seemed to glimmer with her own reflection. The identity of the abuser. The
identity
of the
abuser
. Her. Maddie jerked her head back up as her anger quite suddenly boiled over to froth furiously along her veins. Making her feel suddenly charged, as if with electricity. How
dare
he? After
everything
he had done,
everything
she had been through. How.
Dare
. He.

Maddie jumped up, Guess moving rapidly as the chair skidded backwards. She went straight to the sink and began washing her hands, rubbing them together so furiously that the soap was thrashed into a thick foam. She shook them to dry faster, ignoring the bubbles that flew across the bench, and then strode into the lounge room and grabbed up the phone, dialling Sam's number as she came back into the kitchen.

‘Hello?'

‘Sam. Hi, it's Mum.'

‘Hey Mum! I was gonna ring you later. We're just on the balcony and –'

‘Sam, I need to talk to your father. Now.'

‘Oh. Okay.' There was the sound of breathing for a moment as if Sam was hoping she would change her mind, and then Maddie could hear his voice calling for his father. Soon afterwards, Jake came on the line.

‘Well, hello. What a surprise. How can I help you?'

Maddie picked up the application sheaf with her spare hand. She ground the words out. ‘How
dare
you?'

‘Ah, I take it you've just been served?'

‘How
dare
you? How fucking
dare
you!' Maddie felt tears prick at her eyes once more. ‘All those
lies
. All that
bullshit
.'

‘That depends on perspective now, doesn't it?' Jake's voice lost a little of its playfulness.

‘We
could
have worked this out. We
could
have done it the right way.' There was a brief silence and then Maddie could hear Jake breathe in loudly, through his nose. He spoke slowly. ‘The
right
way? You talk to me about the
right
way? You took my fucking kids for
six
years and you talk to me about the
right
way? You have to be kidding. Even
you
aren't that fucking dense.'

‘I only took –'

‘You listen to me,
sweetheart
. It was
you
who laid the ground rules for what's going down now, so don't come whining when it suddenly doesn't go your way. In fact, get
used
to it.'

‘I don't think –'

‘Hey, breaking news, idiot. I don't
care
what you think. And I don't care about
you
.'
Fucking loser. Brain-dead fool. Traitor. Mother from hell.

Maddie took a deep breath, trying to rein herself in. She dropped the papers down on the table. ‘This isn't getting us anywhere. It's just not productive.'

‘Don't care.'

‘And you're not helping the –'

‘Don't care.'

Maddie opened her mouth and then closed it again. She could feel her anger beat against her temples, trying to find an outlet somewhere. Anywhere. She hoped, desperately, that Sam and Ashley weren't close by, listening to this. Or Natalie.

‘Anything else?'

‘No,' Maddie spat the word out, biting it off at the end. ‘In that case I'll see you in court next Tuesday.'

‘Hang on!' Maddie clasped the phone tightly. ‘What about the kids? When you get back from Queensland?'

After a moment Jake laughed, not altogether unkindly. ‘You still don't get it, do you? You've got it all in front of you and you still don't get it.' He sighed, as if her idiocy was personally tiring, and then spoke slowly. ‘Let me spell it out for you. You're not getting them back. Not next week, not next month, not ever. That chapter of your life is
over
. Finito. Move on. For all our sakes. Just. Go. Away.'

Maddie blinked as the phone went dead but she didn't put it down. Instead she stood there, as the minutes slid past, with the phone held up to her ear as if any second now it would crackle back to life.
God, sorry about that, didn't mean any of it. Huge mistake. Massive.
Eventually the phone began to emit a low buzzing sound that echoed against the white noise inside her head and she put it down, next to the postcards. And the room, two from the top and four over, where her children were right at this very minute. On the balcony. Thousands of miles away.