by Anne Buist
‘That didn’t stop her going to the police.’
Natalie flashed a look at Jenna, whose face was pale; when their eyes clicked she read sorry but also help me. Mickie Radford was staring ahead and Stephen kept looking to his daughter as if he felt he had failed to protect her. Did parents ever stop worrying?
‘There was no doubt in my mind that Jenna cared for her children,’ Natalie said carefully. ‘Coming to see me may well have been what prompted her to take the next step.’
Jenna mouthed a small thank you.
‘Cares for them? Or feels she owns them, Doctor King?’ said Pam.
‘I believe…Jenna wants to do the best for her children.’
‘And would she lie to do that, Doctor King?’ Pam asked. ‘Put what she believes to be her children’s interests above the truth?’
‘I can’t answer that.’
‘Have you read the article by your colleague Professor Wadhwa on false claims made by women in order to get custody and maintenance?’
The article that Mark La Brooy had quoted in his column.
Wadhwa had argued that the ‘explosion of interest in childhood sexual abuse as a cause of trauma’ following the Royal Commission into Institutional Responses to Child Sexual Abuse was giving every woman with a grievance a method to get what they wanted: an intervention order, more maintenance, payback for infidelity. ‘Who,’ he had enquired of Mark La Brooy, ‘would dare, in this political environment, to believe the father?’
‘I am familiar with Associate Professor Wadhwa’s article,’ said Natalie. ‘It was an opinion piece without scientific basis.’
Katlego Okeke was scribbling. Pam opened her mouth, closed it and began again. ‘But some women do make false claims?’
‘In my experience, it’s not common.’
‘But Ms Radford has a psychiatric history.’
‘All my patients have a psychiatric history.’ Natalie saw the magistrate smile. ‘Lying is only a criterion of antisocial personality disorder and factitious disorder, neither of which Ms Radford has.’
‘But anyone can lie can’t they?’
‘Yes.’ Jenna wasn’t looking at her; Malik was.
‘Could her history mean that she might be a risk to the children?’
‘A psychiatric history doesn’t make you a risk in itself; one in five people are affected by a mental illness and quite a lot of them are parents.’
‘But what about the drinking, Doctor King? Isn’t that what she does when she’s stressed? Like now, without my client to help her?’
‘I have no reason to believe Jenna has started drinking again.’ This was something Jenna might lie about. Alcoholics were good at hiding what they were doing, and anyone who had had an eating disorder was a master. Conversely, Malik might say she was drinking even if she wasn’t.
‘But she used to, didn’t she? Even when she had a young child.’
‘Jenna…I believe Ms Radford maintains a job and isn’t abusing alcohol.’
‘That is not what my client is stating, Doctor King.’
‘I have no evidence she is lying. But of course Mr Essa isn’t living with her anymore so would have limited information.’
Pam looked annoyed that Natalie had managed to add the last point.
‘You say she had an eating disorder,’ said Pam.
‘In her teens, I believe she would have qualified for a diagnosis of anorexia nervosa. But not now.’
‘Are you certain?’
‘Yes.’ Jenna was slim and her choice of clothes tended to hide her weight—and today she was wearing a baggy black T-shirt. But there was no way it was dangerously low. Natalie caught Malik’s incredulous expression. There was something decidedly unnerving about the look.
‘But isn’t it true that some people with eating disorders can struggle with food for years afterwards?’
‘Yes.’
‘Do you know how this struggle has influenced her mothering of Chelsea?’
‘I haven’t assessed Chelsea.’
‘Would it surprise you to know that at times the household has had no food at all, not even cans in the cupboards? That Ms Radford has served up a single pea on each plate as the vegetable? Would that concern you Doctor King?’
‘I would need to assess it, certainly.’
Malik looked at her triumphantly. Natalie mentally kicked herself for believing Jenna and her mother.
‘What if she were parenting alone, as she is now? That would be a problem, a dangerous problem, for the child’s safety, would it not?’
‘Protective Services would assess that on a home visit.’
‘While they’re checking for the empty bottles.’ Pam paused. Li Yang’s hand pushed down on Jenna’s shoulder. ‘We’ve heard statements from family members and friends about how good a father Malik is. What’s the risk to his son if he isn’t allowed to see Chris?’
‘Jenna is Chris’s primary carer. She’s the more crucial parent for him at this age.’ Natalie paused. Impartial. ‘But at three, he could have increased time with the other parent or family members, providing he’s safe with them. I haven’t assessed Mr Essa, but in general, a boy’s relationship with his father is an important part of making him feel secure and helping him develop a sense of self. Possibly Mr Essa can help Chris make sense of why he and Jenna aren’t together.’ Like that would happen.
‘Thank you.’ Pam sat down.
Harvey Alcock took his time getting to his feet. ‘Have you seen Ms Radford’s statement about the abuse?’
‘No.’
The magistrate threw a glare at all the lawyers, who clearly should have provided the information to Natalie. Li Yang sent her junior across the floor with it.
Natalie took a moment to read Jenna’s police statement. It was thin on specifics:
Not herself, withdrawn, not wanting to go to school which is most unlike her.
Asked me about getting pregnant, very distressed when I answered.
Natalie wondered about the exchange—a tense or emotionally charged response might have upset the child more than the reason for asking.
Wants to stay home with me all the time.
Doesn’t want to go to Malik’s house.
‘What do you make of this?’ said Alcock.
‘I’m not a child psychiatrist.’
‘But you have worked with children, haven’t you?’
‘Mostly aged three and under.’
‘This is more than just reacting to her parents breaking up, isn’t it?’
‘Objection,’ said Li. ‘Mr Essa is not Chelsea’s father.’
‘I’m the only father she’s ever known. I adopted her!’ Malik’s outburst took the magistrate by surprise. It took her a moment to react. ‘Mr Essa, please sit down. Ms Warren, please ensure your client remains in his seat.’
Pam whispered to Malik. He sat down, mouth set in a hard line.
‘It could be just reaction to a breakup,’ Natalie finally answered.
Alcock frowned. ‘Surely not, Doctor King. What do you make of Ms Radford’s statement regarding the child’s mention of pregnancy?’
‘Without assessing Chelsea, it’s hard to say,’ said Natalie slowly. ‘It may have been brought up at school, she may have become upset because of her mother’s anxiety. But it rings an alarm bell. Loud enough for it to be worth investigating.’ And definitely worth checking out the teacher’s observations.
‘And would this abuse—’ He caught Pam’s expression ‘—were it happening, be disruptive for a three-year-old boy as well?’
‘Yes.’
‘And could he find it destabilising to see his father without his sister present?’
‘He might.’
‘It’s true, isn’t it Doctor King, that children are more at risk of sexual abuse from stepfathers—more so than from natural fathers?’
‘Objection.’ Pam. ‘Doctor King is not a policewoman—or a criminologist.’ Bad call, thought Natalie. The evidence was nowhere near as strong as peop
le generally supposed. Her answer would have helped Malik.
The magistrate frowned. ‘I don’t think this line of questioning is taking us anywhere. Do you have anything more, Mr Alcock?’
The Protective Services lawyer paused, walked to one end of the courtroom, then paced back to Natalie. Not for drama, but thinking time, Natalie thought.
‘What about culture, Doctor King? How do you think Mr Essa’s upbringing will impact on his parenting of a young girl? Alone?’
Katlego Okeke was sitting so far forward in her seat that she was almost in the next row. The magistrate had also noticed. Natalie felt like she was walking a tightrope over a volcano.
‘I don’t know anything about Mr Essa’s upbringing.’
Natalie took little pleasure in the smile Malik sent her way. Jenna’s father looked at her like she was the devil incarnate. Li Yang was letting Alcock go; probably happy for someone else to say the unsayable.
Louise Perkins was having none of it. ‘Mr Alcock. At the present time we are not talking about anything other than the issue at hand, which is safety.’
‘Certainly, your Honour.’ Alcock’s smile was forced. ‘But the child’s mother has expressed concerns to us that Mr Essa belittles her, follows her and checks her phone records. Possessive. Patriarchal, you might say. Is this the sort of culture you’d want your daughter exposed to?’
‘I can only reiterate that I haven’t assessed Mr Essa.’
‘But you have assessed Ms Radford, and the children will be safe with her?’
‘Yes.’ Careful. ‘I believe so.’
‘Chris is my son!’ Malik was out of the chair again. Two security men appeared at the door.
‘Sit down, Mr Essa. I won’t tell you again,’ said the magistrate.
Malik gave in to his lawyer arm-tugging and Alcock also sat down. ‘I’m finished, your Honour.’
Louise Perkins turned to Natalie. ‘The paediatric expert found no evidence of abuse, but I take your point that there may be abuse that doesn’t exhibit physical signs. You’re the only psychological expert I have in my court, Doctor King. So, until such time as the lawyers gathered here organise someone else, you’ll have to do. I need to make a temporary custody and access decision today.’
The magistrate looked at her notes, but Natalie suspected she didn’t need to. ‘There’s a lot of work to be done before I can make a ruling in the best long-term interests of the children,’ said the magistrate. She looked at Malik. ‘Mr Essa, I understand your distress if these allegations are without basis, but until we have more assessments completed—including the police investigation—I must make a ruling that ensures the safety of both children. I am going to give custody of the children to Ms Radford—’
Jenna looked up; Natalie saw only relief.
‘On the matter of access.’ The magistrate frowned. ‘I accept that Mr Essa has been father to both children. I’ll grant weekend access—during the day only—to both children, supervised by Mr Essa’s mother.’
Jenna’s expression hardened and she turned to Li, talking frantically in low tones.
‘Can we have a moment please?’ said Li.
Louise Perkins nodded impatiently. Li turned to Alcock. Winona and Jenna joined the huddle.
‘Ah, your Honour,’ said Alcock finally, as he rose.
‘Yes, Mr Alcock.’ The magistrate didn’t sound happy.
‘Ms Radford wonders—and we agree—if the supervision could be undertaken by her parents. The children are familiar with their home and it’s closer for her.’
‘Are the children not familiar with Mr Essa’s mother?’
Alcock cleared his throat. ‘The reality is, Mrs Essa cannot be relied on to supervise adequately. Culturally…’
Malik was on his feet again. ‘Chris knows my mother—’ It was apparent he was referring to the woman beside him. ‘Jenna’s mother is a drunk.’ Malik saw the two security staff start to move but remained standing despite Pam tugging at his arm. Jenna’s father half-stood. His wife remained seated, looking down.
Okeke leaned forward again.
Jenna was now standing. ‘She’ll let Malik do anything, she’d lie for him, do whatever he asked!’ Malik had moved out from his seat and the security staff stepped forward to restrain him.
‘Enough of this in my courtroom! All sit down immediately.’ The magistrate, all 150 centimetres, was worth several male heavies. Malik sat, but the two uniformed men remained beside him. ‘Mr Alcock, has Protective Services spoken to Mrs Essa?’
Winona cleared her throat. ‘Your Honour, Mrs Essa has not been interviewed but after assessing Mr Essa we do share concerns that…ah…cultural norms may differ and that Chelsea could be at risk.’
‘What cultural norms would they be?’
Winona whispered to Harvey who replied, ‘Mr Essa is considered the head of the household. We agree with Ms Yang that his mother might not be in the position to…ah… stand up to him.’
The magistrate frowned and addressed Malik’s mother. ‘Mrs Essa, you understand that supervision requires you to be with the children at all times?’
The woman with the arm of gold bangles nodded. ‘Of course, if that is what is required. They are children. My family. I care for them as I did for my own.’
‘Any other objections?’
Jenna looked like she had plenty, but the magistrate wasn’t about to give her airtime.
Alcock conferred with Winona, who was shaking her head.
The magistrate turned to Natalie. ‘How long will it take you to do an assessment? Both parents with the children.’
‘A parenting assessment?’ She had spare time slots. ‘A month.’
‘Then we reconvene a month from today. I trust there are no objections?’ As Natalie locked eyes with the magistrate, the clear message was: and make sure you have all the answers. ‘To be clear, Mr Essa will have weekend access, daytime only, supervised by his mother.’
Pam Warren and Alcock requested the right to obtain another psychiatric opinion if needed, and Li Yang nodded.
Brilliant.
Task one—decide if Jenna was one of Wadhwa’s and Mark La Brooy’s frivolous claim-makers, lying to keep things out of the Family Court, away from a judge she thought would be unfriendly. And if she was also lying about her eating disorder and her alcohol consumption. And if, regardless of that, she was still a better parenting option. And then try and convince the court of that.
Task two—decide if Malik was lying about the extent of Jenna’s illness. And whether he was a low-life child abuser and, while she was at it, whether he was a paternalistic misogynist Islamic fundamentalist.
But really it was all about task three. How to ensure Chelsea and Chris were safe.
7
The first thing Natalie saw when she opened her iPad over breakfast was a Guardian column headed ‘Racism in the Name of Child Safety’ by Katlego Okeke. Shit.
Yesterday we saw the race card played in the Children’s Court. Hardly news, you might say. Regrettable; but angry parents with much at stake will throw whatever is available to discredit each other—including racist stereotypes. Except it wasn’t angry parents. It was a lawyer in the public employ, representing a government institution: extraordinarily, the Department of Human Services…
Okeke went on to skewer Harvey Alcock for labelling Muslims as child abusers and for maligning ‘a grandmother, a quiet dignified woman who raised three children after her husband died’, as well as for advocating in favour of ‘a mother with a history of mental illness and alcoholism—but who had the compensating attribute of being white’.
After a robust critique of the way the various professionals in court had ‘tossed the word “culture” about as a loose but invariably negative term to create a sense of danger’, she concluded:
Magistrate Louise Perkins rightly dismissed Alcock’s argument and allowed the grandmother to contribute to resolving the family crisis and creating a safe environment for the children. But when the voic
e of government is racist, how can we expect any improvement in attitudes to our refugees?
Which pretty much covered everything, thought Natalie. Her toast was cold and she gave up on it and made herself another coffee. Protective Services would not be happy; they had enough image problems as it was. Natalie was grateful she had escaped a name-check. For a psychiatrist, all publicity was bad publicity. She’d been in the media before, and it had had Declan reaching for the blood-pressure tablets.
‘Is this your case?’ asked Beverley. She was outfitted in a yellow catsuit that made her look a little like a canary. Natalie wished it had been something other than the Okeke article that had moved her secretary’s interest away from the wedding-planning.
‘Unfortunately, yes,’ Natalie admitted.
‘You aren’t on Twitter, are you?’
‘No.’
‘Okeke has caused a bit of a storm. There are some awful trolls out there. And it’s a sensitive topic.’
‘What topic?’
‘Get a Twitter account, then look up hashtag SaveOurKids.’
Natalie downloaded the Twitter app and found she needed a handle. After a moment she typed in @BobNotDylan and found it was already taken. Really? She added her birth year. It didn’t take her long to find the search function.
#SaveOurKids turned up hundreds of comments on Twitter in the preceding six hours. It was hard to tell who supported what but the Muslim theme was dominant. Okeke tweeted from @NotOKK and had posted a link to her article. Right-wing journalist Mark La Brooy had replied.
Mark La Brooy @SayItStraight68: Madness. Islam before women and now children. Kids need safe parents #SaveOurKids
Others waded in:
Julie G @JoolieGG: Maybe he’s fine but unless we’re sure why put kids at risk? #SaveOurKids
Natalie skimmed through the rest—nothing that struck her as an intelligent contribution to the topic. Some people had too much time on their hands.
‘I’ve been asked to do a parenting assessment on both Jenna and Malik,’ Natalie told Declan. ‘But the more I’ve thought about it, the more I want to run a mile.’