by Jo Kessel
The paper was expensive and excellent quality. Ridiculous though it might sound to the layman, in terms of legal stature, quality of paper means everything. This paper told Anthony that the sender was a force to be reckoned with. He tore at the envelope furiously, but the paper was so thick that it was hard to open. Or was it just that his hands were shaking? Eventually he created a big enough tear for the letter to be extracted.
Dear Mr. Anthony Aidan de Klerk
We hereby inform you that an emergency application has been filed by Claire Ruth Sarah Jackson, formerly known as Mrs Anthony Aidan de Klerk, for leave to remove your daughter Miriam Anisia de Klerk from the British jurisdiction to reside with her in San Diego, California, USA.
An emergency hearing has become necessary due to a change in Claire Jackson’s circumstances. She has recently learned that she is with child and is engaged to be married to California resident Mr Jonah Stephan Kennedy. She also has work commitments in the USA which will commence in October.
A date for the hearing has been set for September 15th. Attached are forms to be filled in at your earliest convenience and filed to……………..
Blah, blah and bloody, fucking blah – Anthony tossed the letter face down on the table and buried his face in his hands, trying to process it all. Claire was pregnant? Claire was getting married? Claire wanted to live in the US? Anger began bubbling dangerously in his belly, like the core of a volcano building towards eruption. He wanted to spew, to shout, to pierce the wall with his fist. He’d feared this might happen, but not quite this fast. Claire was daring to take Miriam away from him to live in America? Instead of finding the wall with his fist, he found it with his cranium. Four words came from his mouth and he accentuated each one with a head butt. “No – bloody – fucking - way.”
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As he nursed his bruised brow, his first thought was to call Ali. But then he remembered that she was also returning to work today after a period of maternity leave and the only reason that they hadn’t come in together was because she was busy setting things up with the childminder to make the transition for Jasper as smooth as possible. Ali had been extremely stressed these last few days. She was jet lagged, she’d been weaning Jasper off the breast, she was nervous about coming back to work and about leaving the baby. He’d tried to be as supportive as possible, reassuring her that she was doing the right thing by going back to work but, nonetheless, cutting the cord from Jasper made her feel like she was being a bad mother. So no, Ali almost certainly wouldn’t want to hear his woes about Miriam, not right now.
Anthony paused to consider what she’d say to him if he did ask for her advice. He wasn’t even certain she was capable of being impartial. Ali liked Miriam and had always done her best to be compassionate and treat her well, but would she miss it if Miriam weren’t there, if the court granted Claire permission to take her to the States? In many ways Miriam’s absence would make Ali’s life easier. Many of the problems they’d faced in the last couple of months had been because of Miriam. But perhaps Anthony was being unfair. Despite these troubles, Ali would always want the best for Anthony. And the best for him was most certainly not having his daughter spirited away to the other side of the world? When would he see her? Flying back and forth across the Atlantic on a regular basis wasn’t cheap. It was also exhausting. Was this what was to become of his life?
No, no, no. This wasn’t what was to become of his life because he wasn’t going to let it. He had an important murder trial to prepare for and conferences set up for most of the morning but all that would have to wait. This was much more important. His children meant more to him than anything and he would fight tooth and nail to keep them close by. Claire was free to live wherever she wanted but that didn’t mean she was going to be able to take Miriam with her. Over his dead body would he ever allow that to happen! He tapped his lips with an index finger, contemplating. If Claire was going to use the pompous-sounding Quinn, Sullivan & Pentecost, then he needed to better it. That American firm probably wasn’t even specialised in family law at all, let alone the vagaries of British family law, but Anthony knew someone who was. And they were the best. If anyone could make sure that Miriam would never be taken from the country then David Sherwood QC could. He picked up his handset and called down to the clerks’ office. “Hello, Jon,” he said, “Could you get me the number for David Sherwood please?”
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Half an hour later, after a long conversation with David Sherwood QC, Anthony was feeling much more positive about his situation. “Well done, well done, excellent work,” David praised when Anthony talked through the evidence he’d so far managed to compile against Jonah and Claire. “That’s all looking extremely promising.”
“Do you think I’ve got a strong case?” asked Anthony.
It was odd having the tables reversed. It was usually clients who asked him that question.
“I’m sure you’re aware that the law leans very heavily in favour of keeping a child with their mother but you do have some very compelling evidence and there have been a few surprise cases more recently where judges seem to be leaning towards the father.”
Anthony could feel a weight lifting from his shoulders. This was exactly what he needed to hear. That there was still hope and that he could make this happen. David Sherwood paused for a moment and then restarted.
“But I must warn you, there is more to consider. From what you have told me, you and your ex-wife have had an extremely amicable arrangement to date. If we do win the case there will be a lot of bitterness towards you because you will be preventing her from leading her life, or at least making it very difficult to do so. What you have to decide is whether you are ready for that kind of resentment. It could also turn your daughter against you long term. Have you considered what she might want? Do you think she would prefer to go to America and be with a happy mother or to stay at home and be with a mother who feels straight-jacketed?”
It was all so damn complicated, but surely Miriam wouldn’t want to leave her father behind if she had a choice.
“Miriam and I are very close,” Anthony insisted. “I’m sure she’d rather stay in London than live in San Diego. Her friends are all here. Her family is all here.”
He didn’t bother mentioning that actually neither of his parents lived in the UK.
“How do you feel about social services interviewing your daughter?”
David Sherwood said this like a statement, but its content felt loaded. Was it right to involve Miriam in this? Should her opinion count? Should she be put in the unenviable situation of choosing?
“I’m sure that would be fine,” he decided.
The phone line crackled as the discussion ceased.
“Right then,” said David Sherwood, “we are pressed for time, so if you could furnish me with all the documentation and supporting evidence as soon as possible, that would help expedite matters.”
“But you do think I have a solid case?” Anthony checked again, anxious for reassurance.
“It could get a bit ugly, but I most certainly do believe that the evidence you have garnered might well turn the odds in your favour.”
Phew, that’s all Anthony needed to hear. As he put the phone down, shards of sunlight beamed through the window. From hailstones to sunshine, perhaps this was a sign of things to come. Jonah Kennedy, Anthony thought to himself, you better watch out. You have no idea what’s coming your way. By the time I’ve finished with you, your character assassination will be complete. I’ll expose you to the world for the man you really are. Even Claire won’t come out of this unscathed. But who cares? It was their fault. They asked for it. They pushed me too far, trying to take Miriam away from me. Ah yes, and before the hearing there was one more thing that Anthony needed to do. He hadn’t discussed it with David Sherwood QC, but he didn’t need to. This was a little something he planned even before he received that damned letter from Quinn, Sullivan & Pentecost. If Claire was going to play dirt
y, then so could he. He picked up the phone again and called the clerks office.
“Hello again, Jon,” he said, a smile finally returning to his voice. “Could you get me the telephone number for ABC Television’s head office in America please?”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
CLAIRE
It was only a few days since Claire had left Jonah and San Diego behind but his absence was already an aching void in her chest. Even though he’d never lived with her in 77 Gladstone Road, she missed his presence in every nook and cranny of the house as if he were a permanent fixture that had been removed. She was counting down the days that they’d be together again, even if the purpose for him being there was for what had the potential to be the most unsavoury episode of her life: the court case. The anxiety about the imminent hearing was hovering over her like a black cloud. Without Jonah’s reassuring presence, doubt crept into her mind like an unwelcome parasite.
Keeping busy helped keep the demons at bay. She was currently en route to visit Orlando Goodman and after that she was heading to Morning Cuppa for a meeting with Editor Richard followed by lunch with Georgia. And then tonight was the night. Tonight she would tell Miriam not just about the babies but about her plans to relocate to America. Three key conversations would take place in just one day. She was apprehensive about all of them but it was the one which would happen at home, later, that filled her with the most dread. What if Miriam hated the idea of bidding farewell to her friends? What if she hated the concept of yet another new sibling, let alone that two of them would arrive simultaneously? What if she blamed her mother for ruining her life? Thankfully the cycle of torturous ‘what-ifs’ was broken by her arrival at Orlando’s Kings Cross maisonette. As she stepped out of her car she soberly reminded herself how insignificant her troubles were compared to Orlando’s.
She tugged at the doorbell pulley, smiling at the church bell peels which rang out in response. Orlando opened the door. Despite the fact that he was beaming, he looked ghostly. How on earth was he carrying on performing in the theatre?
“Finally,” she picked her words carefully. “It’s wonderful to be with you in the flesh instead of seeing you on a screen,”
She felt this even more acutely with Jonah, who she’d spoken to on Skype several times since returning to London. Granted, it was miraculous that technology allowed you to see a person as you spoke to them on the other side of the world but that’s where the magic ended. She now considered that seeing someone you love frozen behind a glass panel was a cruel tease. It reminded you of quite how far away and untouchable they were. Orlando closed the front door and pulled her in for a hug, instead of his usual double kiss air greeting.
“Dahling, you’re looking more radiant than ever. May I?”
His hand hovered above her stomach, waiting for permission. She nodded. He closed his eyes as the flat of his palm met her lower abdomen which was covered loosely in a thin white muslin shirt. About a half minute passed until he raised his hand and opened his eyes.
“I know what you’re going to have,” he said.
“Excuse me?”
“There’s a psychic gene running through my family. Disbelieve me if you will, but I can tell the sex of your babies.”
Claire rolled her eyes, chuckling.
“Jonah’s latest guess is that it’s a boy and a girl.”
Or was it two girls? He changed his mind the whole time. Orlando led her into the kitchen where he found a pad of yellow post-its and started writing. Once finished, he tore off the slip of paper and handed it to her. The note was signed and dated.
I predict you’re having two boys.
“We’ll see,” she laughed.
Claire slipped the note into her bag and swapped it for a small carton which she handed over.
“This is for you.”
“Salty Sisters?” read Orlando, perusing the box.
“I bought you these in San Diego,” she explained. “Salty Sisters are two Californian women who started up a company which makes salted toffees. They are the most sensational thing you will ever put in your mouth and dangerously addictive.”
She’d been with Miriam and Martha shopping in Whole Foods when one of the Salty Sisters offered them samples to taste: salted toffees, salted caramels, some coated in chocolate, others iced in coffee. Whilst the salty sister and Claire chatted, the girls quietly gorged on the samples, practically depleting supplies. Partly because she was embarrassed and partly because Claire herself found the confectionary divine, she bought more than a dozen boxes back to the UK as presents.
“They’re packed with sugar,” Orlando read the label. “I thought I wasn’t allowed sugar.”
She wondered if what she was about to say was breaking the Nutritionist’s code of conduct.
“Some things,” she said “are worth breaking rules for. At least they’re gluten-free and I’m sure a little a day won’t hurt you.”
Orlando sat down at the table and patted the bench next to him.
“I wanted to thank you so much,” he said as she sat down. “I really value all that you’ve done for me. You’ve been a real source of support and comfort, even from the other side of the Atlantic.”
“It’s been my pleasure,” she said, taking out her notebook. “So tell me, how are things? Is the mistletoe therapy still working for you? Do you feel as if you’re improving?”
He shook his head and removed the pen and notebook from her clasp, laying them on the table.
“There’s nothing more you can do for me Claire,” he said. “I’m literally riddled with the stuff. Every day that I’m here is borrowed time. I’d prefer to hear about those little boys growing inside of you as well as that not so little boy of yours that lives in America. What does the future hold for you? And before you go, we must put a date in the diary for me to meet him.”
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Three hours later, Claire and Georgia were sitting in Gourmet Pizza, a bustling artisan restaurant on the South Bank, overlooking the Thames. Georgia was tucking hungrily into her Hawaiian pizza whilst Claire toyed with her avocado and bacon salad.
“I’m not hungry,” Claire complained. “I don’t know if it’s the jet lag or because seeing Orlando was so upsetting, or the hormones -
“The hormones?” Georgia quizzed.
Oops, Claire had forgotten that her pregnancy was still a secret. Damn, she hated lying, but she shouldn’t tell Georgia when even Miriam wasn’t yet aware.
“Um, yes,” she forked a tiny cube of avocado into her mouth, “I’m premenstrual.”
Georgia screwed up her eyes and looked down at Claire’s belly.
“I’m a witch too,” she said.
“What do you mean?”
“I know that you’re pregnant.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Every time I suggested that you order something which contained goats cheese you straight away snapped ‘no’. I know that you normally love goat’s cheese. So I can only deduce that means you’re pregnant. See, now that I’m pregnant, I know the things that you’re not supposed to eat.”
Georgia smiled smugly, displaying pride in her detective skills.
“That’s really not it at all,” Claire stuttered.
“Oh, come on,” Georgia wouldn’t let it go. “I can see that you’re pregnant. You’re showing.”
“How do you know I haven’t just got fat and am now very insulted?”
“Because your boobs are enormous,” Georgia whispered, illustrating quite how big they were with her hands.
Claire knew she couldn’t keep up the pretence.
“That’s because there are two,” she whispered back.
“Thankfully there are two,” Georgia was confused. She still thought they were talking about breasts.
“Two babies,” Claire hissed.
Georgia’s eyes widened.
“Twins?” she mouthed.
Claire nodded. And then she started crying.
“I’m sorry,” she apologised. “I’m tired and seem to be crying at everything at the moment. And I miss Jonah.”
She’d put a date in the diary for Jonah to meet Orlando just before the court case. At the back of her mind now was the thought: I hope he makes it. Georgia got up to hug her.
“That’s wonderful news. Our children will be the same age and can grow up together.”
“Oh Georgia,” Claire touched her friends arm, suddenly piqued by the thought that if all went as planned, her best friend Georgia wouldn’t be round the corner any more. Miriam wasn’t the only one who would lose out. There would be adjustments for them all. “There’s so much to tell you.”
“So tell me, that’s what I’m here for.”
The next hour was pure catharsis as Georgia listened to her friend’s American escapades. “I often think about the fact that if you and Jonah hadn’t crossed paths in that studio, none of this would be happening. I’ve got you and fate to thank for that,” said Claire, patting a hand on her stomach and adding: “and these.” She paused a second, contemplating. “And I’ve got you to thank for me getting that job at ABC. Without you I wouldn’t even be working in TV. Georgia, you are a witch. You have single-handedly helped turn my life around. What am I going to do without you?”