Sticks and Stones (16 page)

‘Nothing,' said Hannah without hesitation. ‘Nothing at all.'

Stuart cleared his throat, but then stayed silent.

‘It's a difficult thing,' said Nicholas slowly, sitting forward on the couch. ‘It's a difficult thing all round. But now I think it's best to focus on Mattie's response,' he slid a paper-clipped set of papers out from underneath the envelope, ‘to all this. Get the orders finalised and get those kids back home, where they belong.'

‘Yes. Absolutely.' Maddie turned to him gratefully. ‘So, be honest, what are my chances?'

Nicholas hesitated, flicking through the pages for a moment. ‘Well, don't forget I'm not in family law. But I spoke to some fellows today and, look, I think the chances are pretty good.'

Hannah clapped. ‘I
knew
it.' She sat back and beamed proudly.

‘Hang on.' Nicholas held up a hand. ‘There's work to be done. But, yes, the courts definitely prefer the status quo even though Mattie did the wrong thing six years ago.' He turned to Maddie apologetically. ‘Sorry, I'm speaking from their perspective here. But the thing is it still counts big-time that you've spent six years as the sole parent and the kids are happily settled. You'll need affidavits from their school, activities, things like that. Saying how well adjusted they are.'

Maddie nodded as her mind starting ticking off possibilities. ‘No problem.'

‘And as you can see by the papers, these are for
interim
orders, which means they're only temporary and there'll be a final hearing sometime next year. And the kids have already been given an independent children's lawyer, which is great. Because it means they now have objective representation who is looking after
their
best interests. No one else's.'

‘So they get to say where they want to live?' asked Hannah sharply, even as she glanced at Maddie and nodded, as if victory was now assured.

Nicholas nodded also. ‘Absolutely. So I suppose what you really have to think about is access, and how you'd like to work it.'

‘None,' said Hannah flatly. ‘He's not a good parent.'

‘Well, as little as possible.' Maddie tried to emulate her sister's flat tone but inside the words trembled with unease. ‘Maybe every second weekend. Something like that.'

‘The courts rarely go for that nowadays, but you could maybe make a case with the prior abuse.' Nicholas paused, looking awkward. As if they were about to discuss something intensely personal, like menstruation. ‘You'll need to have as much proof as possible. Photos, witnesses, police reports, doctor's visits, hospital records. That sort of thing.'

Hannah turned to Maddie. ‘You never went to the hospital, did you? Or the doctor?'

‘Only that last time. But I didn't tell the doctor what was happening.' Maddie felt apologetic, almost defensive. ‘It was just so . . . embarrassing.'

‘I've still got the photos,' said Hannah, now talking to Nicholas again. ‘From the injuries Mattie got then. Will they help?'

‘Absolutely. But pity about the medical stuff.'

‘Never mind,' Charlotte smiled at her aunt. ‘I'm
sure
it'll all work out.'

Maddie cast her niece a quick, grateful smile. The support was wonderful, but she still felt uncomfortable discussing this. Not so much the court case, as that seemed like an entity once removed, but the injuries, the abuse. Her stupidity.

‘What about Hilda?' asked Hannah suddenly, her face brightening. ‘You know, that old Austrian lady who used to live behind you. The one who got involved, even rung the police once when she heard you.'

‘Excellent!' Nicholas slapped his leg lightly. ‘That's
exactly
what we need.'

‘And wait till you meet your lawyer tomorrow.' Hannah turned to her sister. ‘She's dynamite. You'll see. She'll eat him up for breakfast.'

‘Both explosive
and
cannibalistic,' said Nicholas, grinning. ‘A lethal, though messy, combination.'

‘But can Mattie afford this?' asked Stuart suddenly. ‘Sounds damn expensive.'

Silence greeted this question, a silence which stretched uncomfortably and yet somehow drew them all in closer. Maddie felt claustrophobic. ‘I'll be fine, thanks. Don't –'

‘Never you mind,' said Hannah sharply to her husband. ‘And that was rude.
Really
rude.'

‘I'm just being pragmatic. Someone has to.'

Maddie stared with rapidly growing irritation at her brother-in-law, willing him to look at her. She pictured him in a Victorian smoking jacket, pipe in one hand and a snifter of brandy in the other. Pompous and bulbous and insufferably patriarchal. He turned and met her gaze.

‘Sorry Mattie, I just think if we're going to put everything on the table, then we need to put
everything
on the table.'

‘Well, you can just take that off the table,' snapped Hannah. ‘Because it's taken care of.'

Maddie whirled around to face her sister. She shook her head emphatically. ‘No.'

‘Yes. And before you ask about the what-fors, Stuart, I'm using my holiday money so it's nothing to do with you. It's not like you were coming anyway.'

‘I can't let you do that,' said Maddie, keeping her voice even so that Hannah would know she was serious. ‘Not a chance.'

Charlotte cleared her throat. ‘Um, maybe you guys should talk about this later.'

‘Or not at all,' said her father, still gazing rather expressionlessly at his wife.

Hannah opened her mouth to speak but then thought better. Perhaps noticing, at last, her sister's rapidly growing embarrassment. Maddie picked up her coffee and took a sip, just for something to do. Quite suddenly, the sound of a new baby crying filled the room. There was no staggered start, or unhappy grumbling, instead straight from the silence came an already ragged mewling. Everyone looked at the new parents with sympathy as Nicholas stood, waving his wife down. ‘I think it's my turn. Back in a minute.'

‘How old is he now?' asked Maddie.

‘Nearly three months,' said Charlotte, getting up to fetch a nappy bag from the corner. She bobbed down to start sorting things out and then swivelled slightly to her mother. ‘Mum, did I put a bottle in the fridge?'

Hannah rose also. ‘I'll get it.'

‘He's a bit of a handful,' commented Stuart, to no one in particular.

‘Did you want it heated?' called Hannah from the kitchen. ‘One minute?'

‘Hang on, I'm coming.' Charlotte left the contents of the nappy bag strewn over the carpet and followed her mother out to the kitchen.

As soon as she left, Stuart turned to Maddie. ‘I do apologise, you know, if I was out of line before. It's just that
I
think finances are important. Knowing where you stand and all.'

‘So do I,' replied Maddie, stung anew.

‘But if you think I'm against Hannah helping you, loaning the money, then you're wrong. I'm not. I
do
wish she'd spoken to me first but that's about it.'

‘Well, you don't have to worry,' said Maddie stiffly. ‘Because I won't be accepting it.'

Stuart gazed at her in silence for a while. ‘You'd be doing me a favour if you did, you know.'

‘Really? How's that?'

‘I
absolutely
don't want to go on this cruise. Hate 'em with a passion. Lots of bingo and line-dancing and Hawaiian shirts. None of which suit me. But if she lends
you
the holiday money for your court case, then she'll stop nagging me to go. And I won't have to feel guilty. See?'

Maddie looked at him and then slowly smiled, just a little. But before she could answer, Charlotte and Hannah came back down the steps from the kitchen. Hannah started gathering the teacups together while her daughter settled with the bottle in her hand, waiting expectantly. As if on cue, Nicholas came into the room from the other direction, holding his tiny son up against his chest. Skinny legs the colour of a red onion dangled from an oversized nappy.

‘Changed him for you,' he said to his wife as he lowered the baby carefully into her arms. Maddie caught a glimpse of a shock of dark hair and a squished button nose. She thought how much Ashley would have enjoyed this, seeing James for the first time. She'd been looking forward to it ever since he had been born. As the baby began frantically suckling at the bottle, batting at the sides with his hands, Maddie glanced from Hannah to Stuart as they watched their grandson with almost identical expressions of infatuation. She felt a wave of fondness for them both, laced, just slightly, by a sour trickle of jealousy. Not because of James himself, or their easy, unconscious sharing, but because of the earlier altercation. And the fact that they could so clearly disagree about something, even in public, without either of them feeling fearful or intimidated or simply silenced by the other's disapproval. Maddie wanted a way to package this up, so that she could then present it as Exhibit A, and say see this?
This
is one of the reasons I was cornered.
This
is one of the reasons I had no choice. Because you cannot move forwards, or backwards, or sideways, or even sit down and try to discuss
anything
, not with someone who quite simply renders you mute.

The lawyer, Diana Le Gassick, was everything that Hannah had promised. A petite blonde who looked more like Kerri-Anne Kennerley than a legal eagle, but nevertheless exuded such an air of confidence that it was infectious. Any doubts that remained were swept away by the suite of offices that she, and her partners, inhabited. A spacious warren of glossy walnut and glass that was impressive without being showy, and sedate without being stuffy. Lots of framed certificates and soft leather chairs and a wonderful mosaic mural of the scales of justice along one entire wall of the waiting room.

Maddie had been most concerned, even defensive, over what the lawyer would say about her original decision to abscond with the children. But Diana took this in her stride, displaying just the slightest trace of censure that seemed to have more to do with her profession than any personal ethics. At one stage she even wiped her hands, slapping them against each other, as if to say what was done was done and they would work with what they had. She went on to explain that the magistrate would be operating from a default position of shared care, based on the child's right to know and be cared for by both parents unless extreme circumstances were in play. Which were notoriously difficult to prove. Therefore any attempt for sole parenting and no contact was doomed to fail and might indeed paint her, Maddie, as inflexible and unreasonable. This actually sent a wave of relief through Maddie. Just the thought of Jake's face if he discovered she was pushing for no contact orders sent her blood cold.

Instead the lawyer suggested they try for the best-case scenario of supervised contact, with access taking place in a special family centre, at least until the final hearing next year. She expressed surprise that an ICL had been appointed already, and seemed to think some pressure had been applied, but was confident this could work in their favour. Perhaps even give them ammunition in a push for court-mandated anger management and post-separation parenting courses. It was a shame, apparently, that the children had been allowed to go on holiday with him, as this somewhat undermined their case. But even this Diana brushed aside, moving swiftly on to the necessity for affidavits, and as soon as possible. Affidavits from teachers, principals, coaches, anyone who could give substance to their current life, as well as affidavits from those whose expertise lay six years in the past. And anyone who could back up her claims of abuse, giving reason to her flight as well as undermining the father's claim to positive parenting. Both then
and
now.

In the meantime Diana would file their response with the court and arrange for the papers to be served on the other party. Every time she used those words, Maddie would get a little jolt, like electricity, that zipped across to form the connection between
the other party
and Jake. And it would seem so surreal, so bizarre, that she could be sitting here discussing the best way to defeat him in a court of law. But after the meeting concluded and Maddie walked out, with Diana's final handshake still warm, she realised that it also felt incredibly empowering. That no one was saying,
Oh my god, is this Jake Hampton we're talking about? Well, forget about it then. He's invincible.
Instead his personality and foibles and adversarial nature were given barely a second thought while what was right and what was wrong for
her
took centre stage. And Maddie felt a gratitude that verged on joy.

After they left the lawyer's office, they drove along Maroondah Highway until they reached the outer edges of Box Hill. Then Hannah turned off the main road and through a labyrinth of side streets until they reached a large park with a scattering of buildings by one side. A scout hall and a community health centre and an elderly-citizens' club. On the opposite side of the street was a white brick fence which broke only for a curving driveway. Hannah turned in and parked diagonally before a two-storey building that had huge white plinths set either side of the front door. They locked the car and walked up in silence, each lost in her own thoughts. Inside was a large foyer, with a sweeping staircase, glossy linoleum floor and a stainless-steel lift set rather incongruously to one side.

Hannah led the way up the stairs, opening a door set at the top and into a spacious room that was seemingly full of elderly people. A large, flat-screen television set on one wall had Oprah Winfrey talking to an audience who kept interrupting with screams of support. Maddie and Hannah caused some interest as they entered, with many of the occupants continuing to stare at them until they passed through and into a wide passage that ran the length of the building, with doors set either side.