The Seven Deadly Sins: Envy

The warm feeling on my neck was still there as I turned and whispered in Wendy's ear.

"Nice tactic."

She whispered a reply. "I was expecting him to pull something like this, not her, but, oh well. Remember, don't look behind you."

With that, the warm feeling disappeared, much to my chagrin. I kept my promise and didn't turn around. I didn't have to. The little selfie in the top corner of the screen showed enough. What? I may be a gentleman but I'm human after all. Both the people on the other end of the connection were babbling, but in my reverie, I have no idea about what. Then the doorbell rang. With Wendy getting dressed, I excused myself to open the front door.

It was my kids.

As soon as the door was open they were wrapped around me, babbling incoherently. James, who came up to my chest was wrapped on one side, Maddy was clinging to my other leg. Once again, I battled tears. I was in heaven. All I could hear were intermittent words, "Hurt me,", "Aunty Beth gave me a camera." Wendy appeared and I asked her to keep our internet buddies occupied for a while. I then took the kids somewhere quiet. Once they had calmed, I got the story out of them, one at a time.

They both had sore feet as they'd walked through the night after sneaking off from the mansion. Maddy had a bruise on her wrist from where Uncle Mike had manhandled her. I felt my blood pressure rise when I heard that. James, bless his little soul, had put himself and Maddy on a hunger strike three days ago. They had been studying it in school but had missed the basic point, that, unless people knew you were on one, they were ineffective. Aunty Beth had given James a camera and he had used it to record his mother saying, "Get your own bloody breakfast." Both kids were trembling with hunger and fatigue. I got them glasses of milk and told them to drink it slowly. I also told them to wait there and a nice lady called Wendy was going to come and look after them in a minute.

Returning to the kitchen, I gestured Wendy over and asked her to look after the kids. I then took a very deep breath before sitting in front of the laptop. Tracey read something in my face and kept quiet, but Shithead didn't and started talking. I just rode over him.

"Tracey, where are the kids?"

"Upstairs in bed."

"No they aren't. They've just walked through the dark to get here."

I paused to once again contain my rage.

"My eight-year-old daughter has bruises on her wrist she claims were put there by you, Shithead. They both tell me they haven't eaten for three days."

Tracey recovered from these hissed accusations first.

"We'll be over to pick them up shortly."

"No, you won't. The day I leave them alone with you pair of assholes, is the day I see Satan skating to work. If I see you anywhere near here, I will take any physical steps I deem necessary to prevent you even seeing them."

Shithead grinned in triumph. He'd got the threat he was hoping for.

"Thanks, Ass Wipe."

The connection then terminated. I checked the conversation was recorded at my end then went to find the others. Maddy was sitting on Wendy's knee babbling about her favourite subject; horses. James was sitting close to her, gazing into her face. I broke out some leftover pizza and again told them to eat slowly. I knew what was coming next, so I grabbed the camera off James and copied that onto the laptop. I set up a folder and put the camera files with Sophia's voice recording and the Skype session file in it. I fast forwarded to the part of the Skype recording that had the bit I wanted and noted the time. As an afterthought, I took photos of Maddy's wrists and added those to the folder as well.

We still had half an hour to wait until the doorbell rang. Plenty of time for me to hug both kids until they calmed and to ring Beth and ask her to come over. When I finished, Wendy was reading the kids a story. Two lady child services officers knocked on my door at about 10:30p.m. I invited them in and offered them drinks. They were defensive and hostile and just insisted they were here to return the children to their mother.

"I'm afraid that is not acceptable to me."

They tried to insist but I sat them down, showed them the bruises on Maddy's wrist and got her to tell them how she got them. I got James to describe his hunger strike then showed them the video of Tracey yelling at them and a short clip of Shithead saying, "Once I have a child of my own I won't give a shit about yours and you can have them back."

"So, are you really going to send them back to that environment after they were allowed to walk here in the dark?"

They both looked uncomfortable.

"I'm sorry, sir, but we have to enforce the current order. You have been accused of abusing them and your wife. If we left them here and they got hurt, we would get in big trouble. We have bosses to answer to."

I deliberately kept my voice deadpan as I replied.

"I can tell you if you return them to an environment where you have evidence they've been abused, rather than just accusations, and they're hurt again, you will have me to answer to."

"Are you threatening us, sir?"

"No, just giving you a glimpse into how life will be."

Before the senior one could call the police, I suggested an alternate plan. I told them my wife's sister was on the way over. If everyone agreed, I was happy to hand them to her, as a neutral party, as long as both parties agreed not to remove them from her. The senior woman disappeared for a while, presumably to ring Tracey, then came back and said it was a done deal. I imagine Tracey and Shithead were happy with that. I could imagine them having a celebratory fuck, after trapping me into threatening them on a recording.

So I bid my children goodbye with a heavy heart, promising to do what I could for them. They both liked Auntie Beth so took it well. Wendy didn't say anything as I disappeared to be emotional again.

The next day, Wendy suggested she go to Beth's to help get the kids ready for school. I agreed. For the rest of the week she picked them up from school and took them to Beth's. I went to work, as there didn't seem much point continuing my vigil. A phone call to Henry confirmed the store was operating well in the red and his plans were progressing nicely.

The following Monday we were all in front of the same judge. Tracey and I had sorted out submissions about everything but custody last time so we were all focused and briefed. Wendy went first this time and both sides presented about her and Mr. Smith's financial issues, including the unpaid dividends. Mr. Smith was obviously hoping this wouldn't come out and almost fainted when it did. The conspirators were represented by some out of town firm and if I was any judge of things, they weren't very good. The judge reserved his verdict on actual amounts until forensic accountants could judge the value of the unpaid dividends, but indicated the general split would be 65/35 after the dividends were paid to Wendy. He admitted he was being harsh due to the nasty way Mr. Smith had gone about things. Wendy indicated she was happy for Mr. Smith to retain the house, after paying out her share. As a status symbol, she knew it was important to him and she had no interest in living there.

For my case, their lawyers had stupidly asked that their illegal Skype recording be admissible. We readily agreed, which confused their lawyers. They, of course, only played the part where I threatened them. That and Tracey's testimony of me abusing her and the children was designed to paint me as the villain. I sat there stoically and took it.

Before I took the stand, Beth and Sophia were brought in and basically painted the picture that I was a far better father than Tracey was a mother. Beth's words were so strong the judge actually asked her to confirm she was Tracey's sister and not mine. Tracey couldn't believe the betrayal and actually left the courtroom during these two sessions.

Then it was my turn. Mr. Coulson led me through describing the original ambush, the kids walking to my place at night and the bruises. He managed to drag out of me the facts about the hunger strike, paying particular attention to the detail that the children's mother and step father elect hadn't even realised it was happening. He tendered attestations by the children, obtained by child services, on those and other issues. Because the opposition had introduced the Skype recording, they couldn't object when we showed them another section of it. Namely, Tracey's reaction when her paramour said he didn't give a shit about my kids. Coulson tried to introduce the video James had taken. The opposition tried to quash the motion under evidence rules. The judge took umbrage at that.

"Gentlemen, this isn't a criminal court. The same rules don't apply. My brief is to do the best for the children of the marriage and I take that duty very seriously. Mr. Coulson, you may show the video, and while you're at it, can I hear that other tape I heard rumours about last time."

So, I got to see Tracey and Shithead cringe as we heard her yelling at her own children to get their own bloody breakfast. That was nothing to their reaction when the ten minute file of Tracey admitting to Sophia she had lied to children's services about me abusing her and the kids was aired. On the tape, she was heard to say it was all Michael Smith's idea. The judge just stared at her for the last four minutes of the recording. Her head was buried in her arms. Michael wasn't happy either. I guess Slugden and Pyke never did tell them why they pulled out.

When asked if there was any response, the opposition lawyer just stood there with his mouth opening and closing like a goldfish. The judge said he had one question for me and I knew what it was.

"Mr. Brown, can you explain the overt threat you made against Mrs. Brown and Mr. Smith? I should also mention I've heard rumours about threatening behaviour to child support workers."

I had prepared well for this. For a change, a man was about to use an emotive argument with another man. I'd done my research and it was carefully aimed. I stood and looked him firmly in the eye.

"Yes, Your Honour, I can. You have now heard the same evidence I did; that my children were removed from me to a negligent and abusive situation. I have always believed that as a father it is my duty, no, wrong word, my privilege to protect my children from harm. I am quite willing to die for my children, as I'm sure you are to die for yours, Your Honour. Merely risking my freedom by threatening abusers thus didn't even cause me to raise a sweat. Yes, I threatened them and would again, in a heartbeat."

For a moment, I thought the judge was going to embarrass himself and applaud. I could see the admiration in his eyes. He tipped me the nod before adjourning to think for a while. He was back less than an hour later.

I was awarded full custody of the children with Tracey's supervised access to them to be totally at my discretion. I heard Coulson gasp at this. He had never seen that before. The judge made an order that all legal costs were not to come from communal funds. I was awarded the house and 65% of the liquid assets. Again, the judge admitted he was being harsh to Tracey due to the methods she used in the ambush. You could almost see the smoke coming from the journalist's pencils. Several of them talked to me outside the court but I have no idea what I said. I was floating on cloud nine at the time.

Wendy took the kids home and I picked up all their gear from the mansion. Tracey and Shithead were shouting at each other the entire time I was there. At home, I just hugged and hugged my kids. That night, the little bloody turncoats wanted Wendy to read them their bedtime stories, not me. They said she was better at it. Fair enough. After reading each of their books about a thousand times, I was a little bored with it.

The next night, Wendy and I hosted an open invitation party with Mr. Coulson and his team as the guests of honour. Two journos attended, so I hope Mr. Coulson got the publicity he deserved. I overheard him spelling 'pro bono' to one of them. Tracey's family all attended, as did most of Tracey and my mutual friends, and some of Wendy's growing list of re-acquaintances. My boss even came, making some snide remarks about having a celebrity in his department. I toasted Beth as I promoted her to the rank of 'favourite Aunt'.

It was fairly late when the party settled to just family. I was sitting at the table with Beth and her mum. John was dozing on one couch. Wendy was reading the kids a story on the other. Mother-in-law raised the thorny issue.

"Dave, how much are you going to let Tracey see the kids?"

This had been occupying my thoughts since the day before.

"I don't know, Mum. It depends on what she wants, I suppose. If she wants to see them, then I won't stand in her way. I mean, the kids need the influence of a loving woman in their life if they're going to grow up well-balanced, don't they?"

My former mother-in-law just sat there shaking her head.

"You know, Dave, for a smart man, you can be a real dickhead sometimes."

"What the ...?"

"Your children are sitting over there with a woman they clearly love and who just as clearly loves them and you."

I span around so fast I nearly knocked the chair over. Wendy looked up and saw three people staring at her, one with an incredulous look on his face. She instinctively knew what it was all about and blushed deep red. I stood up and walked slowly to the couch. I know my next line will never win any awards, but it was heartfelt.

"Um, apparently the position of these children's mother is now vacant. Would you like to apply for the job?"

My answer was a woman rising as if by magic off the couch and melting in my arms. We kissed deeply and for a long time. The kids again did their sardine impersonation as they pressed against us. It all felt so... right.

We put the kids to bed and bid our guests goodbye. I carried Wendy towards our bedroom. On the threshold, she spoke. "Did you ask me to marry you before?"

"Yes, dopey, I did."

"I thought so. Did I say yes?"

"Not officially, I suppose. Why?"

"Well, I'm obviously way out of the league of a 'works foreman', but not an Engineer. How about when my money comes through, you go back to school?"

"Sounds great to me. Anyway, who is out of whose league, Grandma?"

Epilogue

Basically, Tracey never contacted me about seeing the kids. They never asked about her as Wendy kept them too busy.

The bank brokered the selling of the store to a consortium of management and employees. As a local celebrity, Henry asked me to unveil the huge, 'Under New Management' sign to some press coverage. The store was back in the black by the end of the first week. My bank account was soon dwarfed by Wendy's. As arranged, she took only cash while her ex took the mansion and enough seed capital to start all over again. The family grapevine reported Tracey as still being with Michael.

Things may have stayed like that if I hadn't run into Mr. Smith one day. He made a snide remark about wiping the smile off my face when his appeal started. Apparently, his legal team really thought some of the evidence should have been excluded. I asked Mr. Coulson to keep an eye on the court register for me. It was he that discovered everything was on hold while the happy couple took a month long cruise of the West Indies.

It was pure coincidence, honestly, when the fax arrived for Mr. Smith while they were tied up in port. It was simply the aftercare instructions for one Tracey Brown on discharge after a caesarian and hysterectomy nine years ago. How was I to know the ship was parked in a country that took an extremely dim view of men hitting women?

As a basically honest man, I never asked Wendy how all those homeless people got into the mansion and trashed it to the point it was uninhabitable. After all, if I found out evidence of a crime it was my civic duty to report it wasn't it? Who would have known that insurance companies refuse to pay out when people leave their homes unsecured when they leave for a month? Now where did I put those keys Beth gave me? Was that the burnt out hulk of a Mercedes I saw on the side of the freeway yesterday?

At the end of my first year back at university, I offered to go part time till I graduated to help look after our new baby, but Wendy said she didn't know how long she could put up with being the wife of an unqualified man. The bloody snob.

The End

Before you get the red pens out and hammer me about the legal side of this story, know this. Australian law is much more pragmatic about things than in the US. Yes, I can sue you for breaking my pencil, but the amount I win will be limited to the value of the pencil, not a seven figure amount. In Australia, I could sue a dry-cleaners for mislaying my pants for three days but not for the $67M sought in Pearson vs Chung (Google it, it's 15 minutes of hilarious entertainment). Similarly, in Australia, you can't be sued for libel and slander if you stick to the provable facts. I don't know about in the US, but in Oz, Family Courts have much more relaxed rules of evidence than normal courts. Similar to a coroner's court, their job it to look at any information that gets them the right result.

Now lighten up. Many people have commented on my jokes. Has anyone ever noticed that I never make jokes about sex? I agree with the late Humphrey Littleton RIP on that one. Sex is not a fitting subject for humour. To me the sexual act is the most loving, tender thing that money can buy.