Showing posts with label Mary. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Mary. Show all posts

TANGO

8:00 PM - Posted by Unknown - 0 comments

By Mary Tennant

Sharon pulled into the car park of her apartment complex. She sighed and thanked God that she had made it home without an accident. Driving in this place was like entering a war zone; there seemed to be no rules other than being ahead of everyone else. How she longed for the courtesy of drivers back home in Ireland who would not only make way for her but also would smile and wave at the same time!
She had moved to Chile six months previously, her husband Mike had been excited at the prospect of a new direction, new country and new work opportunities. Sharon had not been so excited; she had to leave her position as a social worker at the hospital near her home, it was a satisfying occupation and she loved it. Their children were studying at university and though they had both moved out of home they were regular visitors. Her parents lived close by and they saw each other at least once a week and she had a tight knit group of friends.
Her friends had been very excited about her move. Most had heard little about a country called Chile and when rumours of an apartment complex with swimming pool, a maid and Spanish lessons filtered out she was the envy of all. Ireland was going through tough times; most of her friends and some of their husbands had lost jobs or had been forced to take part time work. This move was a lifesaver for her husband, who was next in line in the office to lose his job, had he not taken the challenge of moving to Chile.
Their apartment was on the 12th floor and from the terrace they could see the Andes. When they first arrived it was winter and the mountains were covered in snow. Today as she pushed her shopping trolley from the lift she thought: ‘What mountains? I can’t even see them for the smog.’ As she unpacked the trolley and placed the items in the cupboards her thoughts were on dinner. She had wanted to make their favourite cod cobbler but had stood before the fish counter for several minutes wondering which fish she could substitute for cod. Even making Irish shortbread had presented problems because she could not find caster sugar. What sort of country doesn’t have caster sugar! At the small goods counter she had picked up a packet of bacon and was so disgusted by its contents, she threw it as far as she dared. ‘They call that bacon!’ She thought. In the end for dinner she resorted to steak, salad and fruit – ‘what else do Chileans eat?’ she thought aloud.
But she did resolve to find a teacher and begin Spanish lessons.


“Hi honey I’m home! What’s for dinner? I’m starved,” called Mike as he opened the door, his mind occupied with what sort of mood his wife would be in.  
“What do you think is for dinner!” she screamed.  
‘Oh dear it’s going to be a long night,’ he thought.
She poured him a glass of fine Chilean wine and they sat on the terrace, he patiently listened as she listed her frustrations of the day.  
“The washing was stuck in the dryer for two hours and I couldn’t work out how to open the door.” She started.
“Couldn’t you ask Franchesca to open it?” He asked.  Franchesca was their Nana.
“No, she is useless,” she replied. “She doesn’t even know how it works and she speaks Spanish! There is no English version in the instruction manual. I just want to go home,” She sobbed.  
“Wasn’t there anything good that happened?" he asked eventually.  
I went walking this morning with the expatriate ladies and found out that you can buy Guinness from a shop called Mundo del Vino, I thought that was a wine shop but apparently they sell beer as well.”
“Well that’s a bonus,” he said.
“Yes but how do I get it home, I’m not driving the car to that ridiculously busy road that I can never pronounce and be buggered if I’m walking home with all those heavy bottles.” She said.
“We can go on the weekend, I can drive and if we go early enough I’m sure we can find a car park nearby, the Chilenos aren’t normally up too early on weekends.”


Mike pushed his bike into the bodega at his office. He loved the ride to work, it wasn’t a long ride and whilst he had to negotiate the pedestrians on the pavement and cars at the traffic lights he had his route down and enjoyed his daily commute. He laughed to himself thinking of his friends back in Dublin who would be driving for at least an hour in the rain, paying a fortune for parking. Here there was no fee, no rain and it was a short pleasant journey.
That was not all he loved about living in Santiago. Mike had a great job. He worked for a London based merchant bank that had offices in South America and he was responsible for upgrading the networks and linking them in with other offices around the world. For Mike this was a big promotion; he had previously been part of a large information technology team, but in Chile he had sole responsibility for the upgrades and he loved the challenge.
There were definitely challenges, some were minor annoyances. For example, the office had a tea lady serving him at his desk and he hated it when everyone disappeared for a two-hour lunch break. On his first day everyone stood up and left the office at 2:00 pm, he thought maybe there was a fire drill but they just all went to lunch and did not return for another two hours! Mike would rather have a quick lunch and be home with Sharon, especially on those days that she called him in tears. They were becoming more frequent. But there were major challenges too – he was finding his co-workers were very resistant to change.
“That’s how we do it In Chile” was a constant retort when he asked why they did not use more efficient practices. When there was a public holiday during the week people took a day or two either side of the designated holiday, without asking and with no regard to looming deadlines. That really pissed him off.
He sat at his desk one morning and reflected on the past six months. He had known it was going to be hard for Sharon to leave her job but he thought she would have embraced the challenge of a new country and language more than she had.  He was pleased she had found a group of English speaking expatriate wives, because it gave her people to talk to; but each time they met she came home with another outlandish story about Chile.
“You know they abandon their dogs in parks when they tire of them, and they fill their trolleys in the grocery store just to show off to others that they can afford it.” “So and so got robbed on the metro the other day, one of the girls said we should never take the metro; it’s too dangerous.” “The students are rioting tomorrow and they get violent and throw rocks so you must not leave the office.”
Try as he might he could not get her to see that this was all nonsense.  He travelled the metro regularly to get to meetings and sure you had to be careful but you had to be careful in Dublin too, in any big city for that matter. As for the other stories she recounted, Mike could not understand how these women could fabricate them. ‘Don’t they have anything else to do,’ he thought.
He didn’t want Sharon become like them. She was more intelligent than that.
“Hi honey I’m home. What’s for dinner I’m starved?” He couldn’t see her but he could hear her crying from the bedroom.  
“Nothing. Get it yourself!” she said. “I just want to go home.”
‘Oh dear! It was going to be another long night,’ Mike thought.


About a month later Mike was sitting at his desk when Sharon called him.
“I think we should go out for dinner.” She said.  “I don’t feel like cooking.”
“Sure.” He answered. “What are you eating now?" He asked, detecting that she was chewing on something.
“Lunch,” she replied.  
“Where are you?” he said.
“In Jumbo.”
“Do they have a restaurant in Jumbo?” He asked
“Yes, but I’m not there I’m just eating some biscuits that I took from the shelf, everyone does that here.”
Mike could not believe his ears “You what? Are you going to pay for them?”
“No,” was the reply.
They ate dinner in an Italian restaurant that was near their home.
“Tell me about this eating food in Jumbo,” Mike asked.
“Ha, that’s what Chileans do, they just help themselves to what’s on the shelf, it’s like a game, just don’t get caught!” Mike was incredulous, he had never known his wife to lie, let alone steal.
“But don’t the people at the checkout see you?”
“No that’s the point, you have to sneak around and not get caught, it’s a game. It puts a whole new slant on having lunch at Jumbo, hey!”  
They both laughed.
“Promise me you won’t go taking TV’s, Okay?”  
Sharon smiled she loved the way he accepted her.
“I found a school that teaches Tango, do you know what that is?” she asked.
“A South American dance?” He answered.
“Argentinian actually and there is a good school near our apartment, called El Baile del Abrazo.”
“What does that mean?” Mike asked.
“I’ll let you know when my Spanish gets better.” She replied. “Anyhow the school is not far from our apartment  and the teachers are all Argentineans – apparently they are the best tango dancers.”
“Ok, if that makes you happy.” He replied. Mike was pleased that his wife had found another outlet and hoped that this would give her a chance to adapt to life in Chile.


Over the next month Sharon’s mood improved, she lost a little weight, bought some new clothes and stopped coming home with exaggerated stories about Chile.  
“Isn’t that dress a bit short for you?” He commented one day after returning from work.
“You think so? But that’s the fashion here, haven’t you noticed? I’m just blending in.” She replied.
He had to admit she looked good, but he was used to her somewhat conventional style of dress, this was out of character.


Around two months later Mike returned home earlier than usual and heard Sharon on the phone. She was speaking in Spanish and he smiled at how competent she had become in such a small period of time.
“Who was that?” he asked when she put the phone down.
“My tango teacher.” She said. “He is organising for a group of us to go to Argentina for a two week trip to attend a school there.”
“Oh! And when is this?” Mike was shocked, they had not been apart for more than a few days since they were married and that was when she accompanied her parents on a holiday. He was completely taken aback that she had not even asked if he minded.
“Not till next month, I was going to tell you tonight but you’re home early and heard my conversation. There’s a group of us going.”
He had not understood a word of her Spanish conversation. He noted that she was wearing another new short dress, very red lipstick and her hair was different. For the first time he wondered who this tango teacher was that his wife was hanging out with and was now planning to go away with. ‘Should I be worried? Should I try to stop her?’  He thought.  But in the end he trusted his wife, she had never given him any indication that she was unhappy in their marriage and after all they had both agreed to make the most of seeing as much of South America as possible.


The whole time that she was away he was worried; he tried to throw himself into his work. Sharon rang each evening with news of the day. Sharon seemed happy and flirted with him over the phone. She told him that she had bought him a leather jacket in Buenos Aires and that she was looking forward to coming home.
“How’s your teacher?” he asked on one call.
“Oh he’s great, you should see him dance with the girls here, they are so skilled. I look like the ugly duckling compared to them.”  She said.
That made Mike feel a little better, maybe he was overreacting.


Sharon returned home and they resumed their routine, her Spanish was improving and he found himself relying on her to translate when they went out. It irritated him but he did have the time to devote to learning the language, much as he would have liked. She continued to take tango lessons and wear red lipstick. At home she cooked great meals and was always happy to see him.  
Work began to aggravate Mike. His co-workers were resisting change and his superiors were becoming alarmed at his lack of progress. A man was sent from London to check on why things were going so slowly and Mike found it difficult to explain the Chilean way of doing things, his explanations seemed lame and he knew that his superior was displeased. Mike was unhappy with himself and determined to speed up the progress, despite the attitude of his fellow workers. If he couldn’t bring them with him he would jolly well do it himself and they would have to update their own systems to catch on.  
In the following weeks he began to institute change and he became increasingly unpopular in the office. It was a situation he became despondent with. He had always been well liked at work and now he felt uncomfortable in the office. He felt the disdain of his fellow workers and was relieved to leave the office and go home each night.
One evening Mike returned from work and was wheeling his bike into the lift as usual, when a middle-aged woman spoke to him in Spanish.  
“I’m sorry I don’t speak Spanish, I don’t understand you,” he said.
“You are not allowed to take your bike in the lift, you will break the mirror glass. You should leave your bike in your bodega.” Mike was flabbergasted; it was as much what she said as how she said it with such authority. It made him feel like a child to be chastised in this manner, and the concierge had never mentioned it in the months he had been living there. Who was this woman and what gave her the right to tell him what he could and could not do in his rented apartment? “I’m sorry.” He murmured.
“You’ll be fined if you do that again,” she said. Mike was furious.


The next day at work Mike sat at his desk and looked around the office. He felt the prying eyes of his fellow workers, he felt confined by the rules of his apartment and the righteousness of the woman who had told him off for taking his bike in the lift. He was overwhelmed by a desire to break down and cry; and that made him feel worse.
“Don’t be such a wuss.” He chastised himself.  He sat at his desk and looked out the window.  
At midday he went for a walk, he walked all afternoon and did not return to the office.  That night he tossed and turned in bed. In the morning he did not go to work. Sharon was worried but went about her usual routine.  
Mike skyped his friend in Dublin.  
“How’s the weather?”
“The same,” he said.
“How’s work?”
“The same,” came the reply.
He thought of the cold wet winters back home and looked out of his window and saw the mountains. He went for a walk and he saw Sharon on the other side of the road, she did not notice him. She looked fantastic. ‘Another new dress.’ He thought. He decided to follow her. She went into a building. “Clases de Tango.” The sign said. “Profesores de Argentina.”
“Mph, so this is where she meets her teacher.” He muttered.
He followed her in and saw her approach a very trim looking dark haired man in tight flares, he pecked her on the cheek and pinched her bottom! Mike was incensed but he could hardly make a scene because he would have exposed himself. He quickly retreated.  
Mike found himself returning to work. He sat thinking for a long time at his desk and then he called his secretary into his office.  
“I have a few jobs for you.” He said as he handed over a list, “and the last one needs careful attention.” She looked at his list and smiled. “Sure I know just the place,” she replied.
The next day Mike went to work and his secretary winked at him.
“I left the address on your desk.” She said, “8:00 pm tonight.” She winked again.
That evening after dinner Mike got up from the table and changed into some casual clothes.
“Where are you going?”  Sharon asked.
“To tango lessons.” He replied. 


THE HOUSE SITTER

10:13 PM - Posted by Unknown - 0 comments

by Mary Tennant


“I swear to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth.” Alicia could not believe that it was her voice in the courtroom. She was standing on the witness stand with her hand on a Bible. It was just like in the movies. This was the first time she had ever been in a courtroom, let alone as the person being interrogated.  
‘How had it come to this?’ she thought.
She told the whole truth. The woman issuing the order gave her a sympathetic glance. She must have looked a sight with her swollen, black, bandaged eye. A few days later someone would ask her, “Did your husband do that to you?”
“If she comes near you, you call the police,” the woman was saying “if you’re in a mall and you see her, just walk up to a security guard and stay there.” Alicia shivered.


“She is good at playing the victim.” Her friend Lisa handed her a coffee.
“How do you know, you never met Kate?” said Alicia.
“All that stuff about being a single Mum and never having enough money to get by, there are plenty of single mothers who manage to sort out their lives without the need to be dependent on others.”
That was just it, Alicia had felt sorry for Kate and it seemed to be a good solution for them both.
“I wish you had told me that before,” she said.
“You wouldn’t have taken any notice.”
“The strange thing was that I think she began to think that my house was hers and that I was the intruder!”
“Did you ever see the movie Fatal Attraction?” Lisa said.


Alicia had met Kate the year before. They were cyclists in the same club and had ridden a gruelling 640-kilometre charity ride together with 38 other riders. During the six months of training prior to the big event, they had swapped life stories. Kate had confided in Alicia that it was a struggle to keep her son in school. She had raised him alone and had wanted to give him a good life, the jobs she had were demanding and she had put her life on hold to see him through his studies. She was constantly looking for ways to save money and looking after other people’s houses when they were away was one way to do that.  
Alicia had spent many hours out riding with Kate and she felt that she knew her well enough to ask if she would like to house sit for her whilst she and her husband were in Chile for two years.  Kate jumped at the opportunity. She moved in as soon as Alicia and her husband vacated the house and moved the furniture around to suit her liking.  
The large two story, four bedroom house was a cut above any that Kate had ever lived in. It was in a well to do suburb on the coast and had sweeping ocean views. The kitchen and two bathrooms had been recently decorated, and the dining room had a wall of glass that looked out onto a beautiful garden and swimming pool. From the upstairs balcony she could look across the Indian Ocean. It was the first time in her life that she did not have to share a bathroom with anyone. Her son had the whole of the top floor to himself complete with a large study and TV room. The coastal strip was dotted with busy cafes catering to locals after a dip in the ocean or early morning run. She loved it. And no rent to pay, all she had to do was look after the property. Alicia and her husband paid for a man to do maintenance on the pool and garden.
She envied her friend Alicia.
She jokingly told friends that she was living in the Ritz and had them over as guests to show off her new abode.  And it was hers for two years! When she had a falling out with her boss she decided to take a three-month break from work, after all there was no rent to pay, and it was summer and she could enjoy the beach and have some time to herself for a change.   
The one minor hiccup was that when Alicia and her husband were home on leave they wanted their house back.  At first this seemed like as easy thing to accommodate – after all their visits were short and infrequent. She planned to go and stay with her brother when they were home.
Five months before her return Alicia emailed to tell Kate when she would be home. Kate felt put out and began to feel resentment towards her. The idea of staying with her brother became less attractive. She looked into renting a place for a few weeks but that was expensive and she didn’t feel she should have to out of pocket just because Alicia was taking a holiday. She could not understand why Alicia and her husband could not stay in a hotel whilst they were home, after all they were rich. But she could hardly tell them how she felt because they might ask her to leave and she was not going to do that. She decided to stay quiet and hoped that it would all work out.
She told Alicia that she was going to stay and Alicia had said, “That should be fine, there’s plenty of room in the house and I will be coming and going seeing friends.” Alicia’s husband was not accompanying her on this visit.

But Kate’s anger built.

Alicia’s dog had been staying with friends. She knew that Kate had a dog-called Fluffy, but naively thought that they could all get along for the short time that she was home on leave. Kate was at work when she was dropped off in a taxi and Fluffy had greeted her at the door. She was surprised that he had been locked inside the house alone all day, she normally left her dog outside when she was not at home.  
For the first few days Kate and Alicia got along very well. Alicia sorted out the odd jobs that were easy to see to and made an effort to be a gracious guest in her own home. She cooked meals and they sat on the balcony at night sharing a wine and gossip after Kate returned from work.
But Kate’s anger mounted, she felt trapped. Despite this she said nothing.
A few days later Alicia bought her dog home as arranged and that was when the trouble started. When the dogs met, there was a scuffle, then a growl and then Alicia’s dog bit Fluffy on the ear. It wasn’t pretty; Alicia took her dog back to her friends, explaining that she had been a bit silly to think that the two dogs could live together peacefully. The morning after the dogfight Kate came storming into the dining room where Alicia was having breakfast and screamed.
“I can’t live with you, this is Fluffy’s house.”   
Alicia was taken by surprise. ‘What is she saying? Fluffy is a dog and this is my house.’  
“You should never have got me into this! I have a busy schedule in the next few weeks, a new and demanding job, and some long rides on the weekends with the club!”
Alicia was speechless. She stared at Kate all the time trying to make sense of what was happening and why her friend had turned on her so dramatically and forcefully.
All she could muster was, “I don’t know what you are talking about. I thought that was what house sitting was?”
“You are a fucking liar!” With that Kate stormed out of the room slamming the door behind her.
Alicia had shared houses with friends in the past.  She knew it wasn’t an easy arrangement but so long as there was mutual respect it was up to both parties to make it work. Kate had the most to gain since for the next year the house was hers, rent-free!
Alicia broke into a cold sweat recalling an earlier skype call when Kate had jokingly said, “I’m looking into squatter’s rights.”

The next day she returned home and found Kate’s son’s towel hanging in her bathroom. She started to feel a bit creepy, ‘this feels like a contest for territory,’ she thought. But she had resolved to discuss matters with Kate in a rational manner. After all, she reasoned with herself, we are both adults; surely we can reach a sensible solution.
When next she saw Kate, Alicia asked, “Can we have a chat about things, I think we need to talk.”
“You’re fucking right we need to talk, I am not going to leave your house, you lied to me, you said you would be away for two years, and you never told me you were coming home in that time.” She stared straight at Alicia, her face contorted with rage, and continued. “You always get everything your way, well this time you are not going to, I’m going to make sure of that. All my friends agree with me that you have put me into an extremely awkward position. I wish we had never met but I’m damn well going to make sure you pay for it!”
“Why didn’t you tell me you were thinking like this five months ago when I emailed to say I was coming home? We have been in regular communication and you never mentioned a word of this to me. What’s more the arrangement was always that we have access to our home.” Alicia could feel her body shake and was at a loss about how to deal with this unexpected, forceful behaviour.   
“I was devastated when I got that email. Do you know how hard it was for me to move into your house? I am not leaving!” She stormed out of the room and slammed the door.
Alicia found herself going back in her mind to the time when her daughters were teenagers and they endured a few turbulent years. This was a classical teenage tantrum, illogical, hysterical complete with slamming doors!
‘What now,’ she thought, ‘how do I resolve this?’
This second outrageous outburst left Alicia paralysed. She moved to the couch and sat motionless for hours trying to make sense of what was happening and how to solve it. Kate’s outbursts were upsetting, but it was her threat of not leaving her house that was really beginning to frighten her.
“It’s as though she feels threatened by me being here.” She told her husband by Skype, later that day.  
Her husband was worried and felt helpless being so far away.
“Get a lawyer.” He said.  
She did not make it to the bathroom and vomited on the carpet, this was too much to cope with.


Her lawyer did not mince his words “Call the police, she is trespassing.” Alicia was quite taken back at such a strong reaction.  
“The police? Is there a kinder way to approach this?” she asked.
“Well you could get a mediator in,” he replied. “You often find that people do not act irrationally in front of their friends. Try asking a mutual friend to come over and you might be able to reach a joint agreement. And by the way plug the police number into your phone. When people are under severe stress it can be hard to remember numbers.”


Alicia feared that Kate was going to make life hell for her and began to think that if she did not get her out of her home before she was due to return to Chile, she never would.
She decided to go to the police station and talk to someone and was delighted to meet a kindly policeman.  
“Your lawyer is right,” he said. “Nine times out of ten you can solve these situations by just talking. But I will take your phone number and address.”
With this advice Alicia felt a little better, now at least she had a plan and felt that she was gaining control of the situation. She decided to ask a friend if he could come to the meeting, that way they both had an advocate. So convinced was she that Kate would agree to this, that she even set a time for her friend to come the next day.  
When she returned to her home, there was an email from Kate.

Alicia
I am going to get out of your house as soon as I can. This is a ridiculous situation you have put me into. I am completely stressed out. I need time to find a place so in the mean time we will live our separate lives in the house and I don’t want you speaking to either me or my son.
I cannot deal with stress at home as well as at work. You’re the one who put me into this situation so you will just have to put up with it till we move out.
You cannot possibly think that you can have your dog in the house that will attack Fluffy at any chance.
Kate
PS do not respond to this email. I do not want to correspond by email.

“My dog isn’t here.” Alicia screamed at the computer.   
When Kate returned home from work she went straight to the downstairs bathroom to get ready to take her son to a concert. He was upstairs in the study. Alicia came down the stairs and asked Kate if they could talk before she went out.  
“There is nothing to bloody talk about,” she screamed “I sent you an email, I will get out of this fucking house as soon as possible, there is nothing more I can do!”
“Please don’t swear like that in front of your son.” Alicia replied in a calm and determined voice.  
“I will fucking say what I like in front of my son!” Kate’s voice grew even louder and more aggressive.
“We need to discuss a few things and I think it would be good if we could do that with some friends here, do you have someone you could invite over tomorrow so that we can sit down and have a rational discussion?  My friend can come at two.”
“We have nothing to discuss, I told you I’m leaving, what more do you want?”
Alicia retreated to her upstairs bathroom, she felt backed against a wall. ‘But this is my home,’ she thought.


She went back down the stairs and was half way down when Kate came flying out of the downstairs bathroom.
“What now, what more do you want from me?”
“We need to discuss things in a rational way Kate, you are not being reasonable and we can’t live like this. I am proposing that we sit down and have a chat so that we both know where we are coming from.” Alicia was surprised at how calm and determined she was.  
“Is there someone you can ask to come over, what about your brother?”
Kate screwed up her face. “No, but I have spoken to Tom about this, you know.” Tom was a lawyer who they both knew.  
“Great, do you think he would come over then?” Alicia thought Tom would be the perfect choice.  
“I could ask Sherry,” Kate said. “But not tomorrow maybe next week-end.” Sherry was another cyclist that both had met in their club. Alicia would have preferred Tom but thought that perhaps Kate had not spoken to him at all and this was her compromise.    
“Great,” she said, “But it can’t wait till next week. It has to be tomorrow.”
“No. Why aren’t you listening to me? I can’t do it this weekend!”
Again Alicia retreated to her bathroom, the only place she felt safe in her home. “I can’t live like this,” she thought.   


She walked slowly down the stairs a third time, Kate was blow drying her hair, Alicia would have preferred that they sat down to discuss things, but Kate gave no indication that she would spare her the time. She came flying out of the bathroom, still holding her hair dryer, hostility written all over her face.
Equally Alicia was determined to bring this conflict to a head, she was not going to spend any more time in her home with all this screaming, slamming of doors and antagonism, she was halfway down the stairs, when she spoke.
“Ok Kate this is the deal,” she started, “I rang a lawyer today.” Kate moved closer to the stairs, her face twisted in anger.
“He said I have two options, the first is that we sit down with a mutual friend to discuss this problem rationally and the second is…” She did not get time to finish her sentence because she saw the hairdryer flying through the air with such a force that she could not get out of it’s way. It hit her on the side of her eye cutting it and blood rushed down her face.
She went to her room, her hands shaking violently; she scrolled through the numbers and found “police.” Her lawyer was right.
“I’ve just been assaulted by my house sitter,” she said.
A very kind police officer spoke calmly to her and stayed on the line talking to her until the police arrived.
When the doorbell rang she went to answer it and for the first time Kate saw the damage she had done, the blood streaming down Alicia’s face. Kate gave her an angry quizzical look as if to say, “Whom have you called?” but when she saw the policeman at the door, her expression changed and she turned to Alicia and said softly, “Oh my God what have I done?”
‘My lawyer was right,’ thought Kate ‘It took a policeman to show her how badly she was behaving.’


As Alicia left the court with a violence restraining order in her hand she thought, ‘well I may have a cut, swollen, black eye but at least I have my home back!’