Things Start to Get Interesting: A Father’s Quiet Struggle (3)

©2010, Ramona K. Silipo. All rights reserved.
Note: Although this is based on personal experience, the following is a work of fiction.

By November, 2005, we had been in a pitched battle of words for over two and a half years, and John hadn’t seen his children since spring, 2003.  Every hearing date was preceded by a flurry of activity: preparing statements, rapid two-way flow of documents and copies between us and our lawyer; harassing, very nasty letters from the Ex; and the general schedule re-arranging and synchronizing required by going to court. Each hearing was also immediately followed by a flurry of paper-pushing activity, but after a few days the frustration and sadness returned, like a heavy blanket covering the whole house

However, one good thing had come of the extended wrangling. The court finally ordered psychological interviews of everyone involved, first the adults, then, eventually, the children.

John and I were both deeply concerned about his son’s unresolved anger and about threats of violence he had reportedly made. Although the threats were attributed to him by his mother, and we couldn’t be certain they were true, we did know that the anger was real. We had begged the Ex to take Boy to see a therapist but she didn’t do it, presumably because his anger played into her desires. So at least the court finally ordered something that would help Boy.

We probably would have continued longer if not for John’s growing worry that the children were being emotionally abused by their mother, who was using confidential information from the proceedings to upset the children further. We had hard evidence, the Ex’s  own unwitting admission in her letters, that she had told the children things they were not supposed to hear.

In another letter Ex stupidly confessed to– no, actually bragged about– her husband’s illegal hacking into my computer files, even going back  to years before I met John. She cited her husband’s computer expertise from working on computerized bombs that were used to kill thousands in Iraq. I was appalled that someone would actually brag about involvement in the bombing of civilians. But I was angered by the blatant illegal hacking into my computer files. We considered taking this letter to the police and filing a case against the Ex’s husband. John contacted the Crown Prosecution Service to ask how to proceed. In the end, however, we decided not to pursue it because the fallout would probably hurt the children.

So this gives you an idea of the type of people we were facing in this struggle.

28 November, 2005, letter to a friend:

We have a full day hearing on 1 December.

Today John looked at me and said, “This will be the last hearing. I’m going to say that I want it to be the last hearing, because there’s no point in going on. It’s hard on us, hard on the children. Besides, no matter what the judge orders, she [the Ex] won’t follow it; and the court will do nothing to enforce it. There’s absolutely no point. Even if the judge ordered her to hand them over to me, it wouldn’t happen, because the court won’t enforce the order.”

The whole process has sucked emotional energy out of me for almost three years. I’ve been the target of the Ex’s most vicious attacks, her most vile and outlandish lies. John suffers for me and worries about my being hurt. But she lobs lies and pure malevolence at him as well. We want it to be finished. John accepted a while ago that he will probably not see his children until they are old enough to defy their mother openly, and he’s come to terms with that fact.

More important, at this stage in the proceedings, continuing the process will involve the children more, quite possibly even require them to talk to a judge, and John doesn’t want to put them in the middle (even though this has been the Ex’s strategy from the very beginning).

So… after three years and tens of thousands of pounds paid in legal fees, John’s stopping this train. I am so incredibly relieved; I feel almost guilty for being so relieved. But I feel as though our whole life has been on hold, waiting to see how things would turn out with this seemingly endless court battle. It hasn’t ruined our first years of marriage. In fact it’s made us closer and more devoted to each other and to our partnership. But it has taken a tremendous amount of emotional energy, caused  periods of frustration and sadness, and made our day-to-day lives uncertain and unsettled. I’m grateful that we can now get on with finding a place to buy and move forward in our life together, without wasting more time and money in an anti-father family court system which, regardless of the evidence, considers only the mother’s interests– not the children’s interests or the father’s.

Astrology had said the hearing date would be full of surprises, and it was. We finally got a judge with BALLS, and it was a woman. (Of course.) We could hardly believe our ears. John was asked to speak first and at the very beginning said he wanted to withdraw his petition because he felt it best for the children “not to endure this atmosphere of conflict any longer. I am emotionally exhausted, and it can only be worse for them.”

But this savvy woman judge wouldn’t let John withdraw his petition.

She got the shrink up on the witness stand and questioned her. Shrink said that the children need to see John, and that it would be a shame if he withdrew now. She said that Boy, especially, needs his father as he enters adolescence. She also said that she is “deeply concerned by the language [Ex] used in her submissions to the court because there are so many distortions and misrepresentations.” Shrink said that Ex “medicalizes” simple problems or situations and magnifies their significance; and that Ex’s reactions are disproportionate to situations, i.e. she over-reacts or under-reacts; her sense of reality is out of kilter.

That judge said she is “extremely concerned about the children’s welfare, considering the mother’s attitudes toward the father.”

Both the shrink and the social worker testified that the children are more than normally influenced by the mother; that the children are both suffering from “fantasies and confusion” about what really happened when they talk about events with their father; and that “their stories more than normally agree, indicating that they are repeating things rather than speaking from memory.” Both the shrink and social worker also said that the children keep changing their stories and embellishing them, which is symptomatic of their not really remembering, but trying to please by giving information because they think it is expected.

For instance, Girl said she had seen a picture of Daddy kissing Mimi. She has never seen a picture of us kissing; no such picture exists. John sent some pictures to the children not long ago, because the last judged ordered that he  send photos of himself and one or two of him with me. He had never sent any before. Even Ex confirmed that. Well, the evidence was right there; there was no picture of us kissing, no way she could lie.

This judge, after three years of John and me asking, finally ordered psychiatric evaluations of the children. She told their legal guardian to monitor the process. (At John’s request, they now have their own solicitor.) If the mother does not present them for the first appointment, the guardian is to come back to court immediately, and the court will attach a penal notice, which means that Ex would go to jail if she missed a second appointment. FINALLY, a judge who is willing to enforce court orders.

Shrink’s assessment of John was that he has “unresolved issues about his childhood” (at which I thought, who doesn’t?);  and she thinks he has more memory loss than the average person  But from the questions she asked when she was interviewing us together, I don’t see it. She asked him about his very early childhood, and I don’t know many people who have a crystal clear memory of when we were potty trained; or who can evaluate for ourselves whether we had “normal”  or “exaggerated” friction with our parents during adolescence. John said the questions were similar in the sessions he had on his own with her. She wasn’t specific in her report, so I’m left questioning the basis of her assertion. However, overall, her evaluation of John was shorter and more neutral than her report about Ex.

The judge asked if Shrink thought Ex should have a psychiatric assessment. Shrink hemmed and hawed for a good 40-50 seconds, then said, “At this stage, it might make the situation worse for the children. I would recommend against it at this time.” (YIKES, I thought. She thinks Ex is so unstable that probing might set off some erratic behaviour or psychotic episode or God-knows-what.)

On balance, this was all good news. This judge really jumped in and was authoritative, intelligent, attentive to all the issues and asked a lot of the right questions. And she is willing to put some teeth into her orders. So John decided to hang in until next April, when the next hearing will have the reports of the evaluation of the children.

The best part other than that is, the judge ordered Ex not to write any more letters to us, AT ALL, except one or two lines that conform to the court order that she must tell John what new school Girl will go to  next year (she moves to middle school). No more hate mail. If we get anything else from her, we are to forward it to the children’s law guardian, who will then petition the court to attach a penal notice for that.

Christian Fascists from America

When fascism comes to America it will be wrapped in the flag and carrying a cross.

Sinclair Lewis might be astonished to see how right he was.

Is anyone else tired of self appointed “Christians” giving all of us a bad name? I mean, really, kidnapping children in the middle of a disaster area. What could they have been thinking? Were they delusional?

Living abroad, I am frequently embarrassed by the behaviour of Americans on the underground or at the theatre or even just walking down the street.  Loud, arrogant, graceless, usually complaining about something, they lumber around London in a state of constant dissatisfaction. Why don’t they just stay home, I often ask myself?

But this, this expedition specifically to steal children from Haiti and take them back to the great, ignorant “Christian” midwest of  the USA — again, what could they have been thinking?

I left the USA seven years ago, when Dubyah stupidity and arrogance were in full swing. All my friends kept telling me, “You got out just in time,” and several of them actively pursued their own efforts to move to other countries –the UK and Canada being first choices. I have friends now living in Denmark, France, Netherlands, Canada… all of whom miss some things about America (mostly food items, believe it or not), but are pleased NOT to be associated with Dubyah and the America he typified.

Lately I’ve been watching a series on television called “Hate in America,” about the various groups that are actively recruiting new members and spout their various hate programmes– the Klan, American Nazi Party, Aryans, Skinheads, etc. While these are a minority of Americans, I believe that they dare to speak what many more people think. It’s only a matter of degree. Organizations such as Focus on the Family and Operation Rescue operate on fascist principles as well.

Kabbalah: New CD Series to Work the Sephiroth

©2009,  Ian Freer.  All rights reserved.

Malkuth – Pathworkings CD

(1st in a set of 10)

Hermetic Kabbalah Series

Pathworkings and Life Force Institute have co-operated to produce a series of life changing recordings which are now available by online purchase in CD-Rom form.  I experimented with the first in this collectable Hermetic Kabbalah series, Malkuth.  Yes, positive changes have occurred to me since then and are continuing to happen, so please read on

The series is based on the age old principle of ascension through the divine qualities known as the Sephiroth, placed on the Tree of Life glyph. Malkuth (10), or the Kingdom at the base of the glyph, represents the physical world and stability; higher sephiroth (9 to 1) go deeper into the psychological and spiritual levels of our existence.  It is vitally important to be anchored in Malkuth, as we don’t need any more “Space Cadets,” “Bliss Ninnies” or others who are so “heavenly” minded that they are no earthly use.

For the experience, you will need a good set of  stereo headphones.  I used mine on a Walkman portable player.  It must be stereo because there is a sonic aspect you will miss in mono. The recordings all use binaural beats* designed by Michael, who is a professional coach and teacher of esoteric disciplines. His techniques provide powerful tools to transform yourself.  The meditations include a unique musical soundtrack for each of the sephiroth and there is one  sephirah upon which to meditate  per disc. The full set is 10, plus an 11th for Daath afterwards.

Each sephirah can assist you with a different aspect of your personal growth and empowerment, and they build cumulatively, so it is not something to be rushed. You need to listen actively to one several times before moving on to the next one.

My first impression of the website and the disc is that high quality is the standard of Life Force Institute. The slip case is very attractive and makes you want to complete the set. The website is luxurious in its style. Fortunately, this matches the highly professional sounds on the disc.

The musical background is both pleasant and purposefully relaxing as well as obviously functional. It’s not ambient but quite different. The binaural beats use modern know-how to change your brainwave patterns, I would have thought, judging from how it felt. The balance of music volume to spoken word volume is really good.  I had no difficulty at all in understanding the well enunciated instructions.

If you have done any kind of Pathworkings before on the Tree of Life, you will be familiar with the idea of entering a visualized Temple and contacting friendly entities, different ones for each sephirah. They appear to give guidance and interact with you. It is cleverly done. Whether you think they are only imagination, or they are more than that, or that imagination is really useful, is up to you.  I would keep an open mind and just do the Work, which is the point of it.

The Work here is to engage you in a review of yourself and a dialogue with the deeper aspects of your core. This inner aspect will differ, depending on which CD you are using. They will build and increasingly harmonise your inner being. The aspects covered by each sephirah are summarised usefully on the website, if this kind of spiritual anatomy is new to you.

If you know a spiritually “switched on” friend who worries far too much, this should be very helpful on two fronts! It is relaxing and entirely pleasant.

The full set is priced at $299 but there is an attractive discount available and alternative options. Contact: www.pathworkings.com for further details.

If you want to know more about how this general type  of guided visualization work developed, I suggest that you could usefully study The Inner Guide Meditation, by Edwin C. Steinbrecher, The Mystical Qabalah, by Dion Fortune, Anatomy of the Spirit, by Caroline Myss Ph.D. , and the teachings of Psychosynthesis developed by Roberto Assagioli.

*Binaural beats happen when two tones of slightly different frequency are presented separately, one to each ear, over stereo headphones. It must be a very small difference and the frequency needs to be under about 1,500 hertz. They generate the entrainment of brainwaves and have applications in relaxation and pain relief. You may be surprised to hear that they were observed as long ago as 1839 by one Heinrich Dove. They were not widely known until a 1973 article appeared in Scientific American. They can be used in the diagnosis of Parkinson’s Disease. Robert Monroe has done further work in the Monroe Institute. Some researchers are testing their application in Psi development.

Surprising what you can see in the English countryside

Japanese garden in the Cornwall countryside

Friendship and Spirit

A friend is someone who leaves you with all your freedom intact but who, by what [s]he thinks of you, requires you to be fully who you are. –John L’Heureux

Books by John L’Heureux include poetry (Quick as Dandelions, Rubrics for a Revolution, No Place for Hiding) and numerous novels.

If you look really hard, you can find copies of Picnic in Babylon, his journal of his last three years of seminary before ordination as a Jesuit priest. (He later left the priesthood.)  Of all his books, this one’s my favourite because it makes me laugh and think at the same time; and the books he reads are fabulous. He enjoys women writers– Flannery O’Connor, Muriel Spark, Doris Lessing, for instance.  He’s also reads Carolyn Kizer, one of my favourite poets (see Mermaids in the Basement).

A Father’s Quiet Battle (2)

©2010 Ramona K. Silipo. All rights reserved.
Note: Although based on personal experience, the following is a work of fiction.

Dear Corinne,

Well, the hearing went as expected. The Ex had no lawyer, so represented herself; and irritated the judge and social worker by rabbiting on for something like 20 minutes.

John’s lawyer said simply, “We deny all the allegations.”

I wasn’t allowed in the court room, but met John and his solicitor, Martyn, beforehand and waited in the private meeting room while they were in the hearing. Just as well, because the Ex spewed forth such malicious lies I might not have been able to be quiet in court.

Among other outrageous calumnies, she said that the children had seen us having sex, and that I stood in front of the mirror, naked, ‘in full view of the children.’  When I read it I laughed out loud, because it’s so completely ludicrous. (For one thing, the only mirror in the apartment is the bathroom mirror, about 12 inches square.) But of course we have to write up official denials and go into detail for the full hearing. It’s not until January, but our documents have to be filed by the end of October.

Get this:  She actually brought the children with her, for which the judge scolded her and told her in no uncertain terms she is NOT to bring them again. However, since the children were there, the judge had the social worker talk to them. The Boy is extremely angry, but has never had any opportunity to talk to his father and say why he’s angry, and so hasn’t had any chance to resolve it. The Ex has been fuelling it for six months, hasn’t got the Boy into counselling or other help, and has generally been using it for her own purposes.

The Girl wants to see John, but wants her brother to go with her. John’s lawyer says that he should propose visitation with the  Girl, as the Ex really has no grounds to prevent it and now it would look bad to a judge if she refuses. John’s mulling this over.

Anyway, the hearing and its fallout were depressing, but John’s lawyer says that overall it was a positive result. He pointed out several things that he thinks are significant. (1) The judge and the social worker both criticized the Ex on a number of points. (2) The social worker was very concerned about the Boy’s attitude and expressed that concern to the court. (3) The judge made no order for John to stop trying to have contact in the interim, so he can continue to send letters and gifts to the children, and to try to get contact with the Girl at least.

So: I spent about nine hours last Monday, and a couple of hours a day last week; then John spent most of Saturday; writing up the draft statement. We e-mailed it to Martyn, who will go over it and tell us what to leave out and what additional information to put in. I finished Xeroxing all the footnoted documents and marking the relevant sections, and John is delivering the whole package by hand today on his lunch break. Next we’ll make any advised changes, and then the statement gets submitted to the judge. Then it gets filed and we wait for a copy of the Ex’s statement. Then we write a response and wait until the hearing in January.

Martyn says that both John and the Ex will have to give evidence at the hearing.  He doesn’t think I will, but maybe. It’s possible that I will need a character witness, and Gregg said he will be happy to do it if necessary. Martyn said the judge would be impressed at the outset by the fact that my former husband and I have such a good relationship and that he’s willing to come 6,000 miles to help John and me. So anyway round 1 is over, and after we get the statement finished we’ll have a breather until January.  It’s unfortunate that we won’t see the children at Christmas time, but it can’t be helped.

For more information on fathers’ rights:

http://www.fathersmatter.com/?gclid=COzWy9nCv58CFZJe4wodQ066zw

This website supplements Fathers Matter – A Guide to Contact on Separation and Divorce. This handbook, now in its second edition, is the first and only step-by-step legal guide in England written for fathers seeking or struggling to maintain contact with their children after separation and divorce.

For more information on Parental Alienation Syndrome:

http://www.breakthroughparenting.com/PAS.htm

http://www.paskids.com/

“Its primary manifestation is the child’s campaign of denigration against a parent, a campaign that has no justification. It results from the combination of a programming (brainwashing) parent’s indoctrination and the child’s own contributions to the vilification of the target parent.” – R.A. Gardner

Much more information is available online:  Search on “fathers’ rights” and “Parental Alienation Syndrome” in Dogpile.

A Father’s Quiet Battle

For more information on fathers’ rights:
www.fathersmatter.com

This website supplements Fathers Matter – A Guide to Contact on Separation and Divorce. This handbook, now in its second edition, is the first and only step-by-step legal guide written for fathers seeking or struggling to maintain contact with their children after separation and divorce.

For more information on Parental Alienation Syndrome (PAS): http://www.breakthroughparenting.com/PAS.htm

http://www.paskids.com/

Parental Alienation Syndrome: “Its primary manifestation is the child’s campaign of denigration against a parent, a campaign that has no justification. It results from the combination of a programming (brainwashing) parent’s indoctrinations and the child’s own contributions to the vilification of the target parent.” – R.A. Gardner

Much more information is available online:  Search on “fathers’ rights” and “Parental Alienation Syndrome” in Dogpile.

©2010 Ramona K. Silipo. All rights reserved.
Note: Although based on personal experience, the following is a work of fiction.

Dear Corinne,

Our life here is quiet, full of love and compassion, with lots to do but no busy-ness for its own sake.  We keep growing closer and closer, and sometimes it’s positively spooky how much we think alike and how our moods coincide. We fit together in so many ways, emotionally, intellectually and spiritually, as well as the best fit physically I’ve ever had.

On the other hand, the struggle for John  to see his children is stultifying. The courts here are unwilling to enforce their own court orders; the judges are gender biased; and the police do damn all to enforce a visitation order. This place is decades behind the best-practice systems in the States. In virtually all cases, fathers are ignored when it comes to child custody. John and I have stood silent vigils with parents who haven’t seen their children literally for years; we met dozens of men, but only one woman.

The Ex continues her campaign of lies, hostility, threats and the rest of it. Knowing that she has a history of physical violence doesn’t help the stress level. Sometimes I just get tired. So much of our time and energy is spent on preparing for visits, John going to see the children, and her keeping them away at the last minute.

As you know, I’ve never met the Ex. I’ve suggested it so many times I’ve lost count, but she has always refused to meet. I’ve seen her at a distance a couple of times, when John has gone to pick up the children and I stayed in the car. She never allows John to step inside the door, so I can only imagine what would happen if I walked up to her uninvited.

You won’t believe this one. Last night we went to ‘open night’ at the children’s school. The Boy is 10 and will go to a ’senior school’ next  fall. This was the night for parents of those children to give them all the dope on choosing a school for their kid, applying, visiting the schools, etc. John and I arrived early on purpose, and selected seats ‘way on the opposite side of the room from the door, about half way back in the rows of chairs. We didn’t want to encounter his Ex, because she had written to his lawyer saying she didn’t want him to go to the open nights. She is steadily trying to push him out of the children’s lives, and we are steadily holding our ground.

Anyway, we were minding our own business, talking and engrossed in the pile of materials the teacher had handed us, when she swooped (no other word for it) down on us and started hissing at John and poking her finger at me saying  ‘I don’t know why you’re here,’ etc. After a few minutes of it, I said, ‘I’m here because I love the children.’ She was non plussed, I guess
because I didn’t retaliate with nastiness or raise my voice. I hardly reacted at all. Then she walked off. It was very calculated and deliberate harassment.

So John shot off a note to his lawyer today asking him to get an ‘undertaking,’ which is a binding agreement in writing, that she would not approach us again at any of the school nights (we have 3 more to go to). It’s an ugly mess, all of her making.

I don’t know where her venom comes from, and it’s a big annoyance to have it directed at me. Since I’ve not seen her close up, I’m not sure I’d even have recognized her if she hadn’t made such a point of making a scene. It was very odd. What it reminded me of most is the kind of mindless venom shouted by racists at civil rights demonstrators. Calculated but mindless.

John’s court date is September 24th. . He hasn’t seen his children since March. It may be that Ex will come to some agreement at the door of the courtroom. That’s what happened with the house sale. But we’re not counting on it. It’s three times now that she  pretended to arrange for him to see the children, and then not brought them to the appointed place and time. One of these was for Ian’s birthday. This is sheer malevolence, in my opinion.

And now there’s a new wrinkle: After the Ex got married in July (to the guy she knew before John, and saw while she was married to John), John found a very nasty note from the guy
taped to his windshield, telling him not to call the Ex or come to the house.

The probable sequence of events is that the judge at this hearing coming up will appoint a social worker to interview the children and the parents. Then sometime around Christmas or early next year there will be a second hearing where instructions will be given. It’s a long, drawn out, expensive process, but John is insistent that everything must be done withing the system.

I’m at a loss. You’ve known me for over thirty years now, and we’ve both seen marriages and divorces come and go. I’ve never known anyone who behaved like the Ex is behaving. She’s like a character in a bad soap opera or cheap novel. The people I know who are divorced wouldn’t dream of threatening violence of withholding their children from the other parent. I don’t understand this kind of deliberate emotional violence, let alone the threats of physical violence in her letter.

But I’m married to John, so I share everything with him, including this.pain.everything with him, including this pain.

Pogo on the Heath

©2009, Ramona K. Silipo. All rights reserved.

“Poe——— Goe——–! Oh, Poe— Goe—!”

The young girl’s voice, came from some distance behind my bench.

“Pogo!” Closer. And firmer now, warning. “Pogo, come here right now!” the girl ordered.

At that moment, Minsky came shooting by on my left, past the bench where I always sit while she works off her excess energy, and dived headlong into a rollicking roll with a silky black Lab about five months old. I laughed with sheer joy watching them bounce and roll about together.

“He’s with that funny-looking dog over there,” a man’s voice, an American voice, called.

Whereupon I realized that the black Lab was Pogo. Everyone, including her owners, refers to Minsky as funny-looking.

“Minsk,” I said quietly, “Come, Minsk.” For once, she trotted up to me immediately, without looking to see how serious I was.

“Good dog,” I said, stroking her head. I snapped on the lead, thinking the other dog would stand still since his playmate had left him.

But Pogo had other ideas. He sniffed the ground for a few seconds, then threw himself on to the grass and had a good, vigorous roll. He stood up, with a smile, I swear, and shook himself, his tail rotating around its base at about sixty miles an hour.

Just then the wind shifted suddenly, and I smelt that he’d rolled in something. A dead, decaying, bad-cheesy-smelling something. Phew!

The girl  finally caught up with Pogo and reached out to put on his lead. “Oh, Pogo, you stink!” she wailed.

The American man’s voice came up behind me, calling, “Celia, didn’t I tell you  not to let him off the leash?”

“Daddy,” Celia moaned, “he rolled in something dead. He smells awful.”

“Oh, my God,” he said, having got close enough to get a whiff, “It’s disgusting! How are we going to get him home without smelling up the car? Celia, I asked you–”

He stopped suddenly, as though he’d only just noticed me sitting there. Minsky was quite interested in the aroma; her nose was up and taking it in. Her tail wagged, and she wanted some, too. I scratched behind her ears, held tightly on the lead, and pretended to be oblivious to the father-daughter-canine drama. But I couldn’t help it; I had to laugh.

“Yeah, you can laugh,” the dad said. “You’ve got yours on a lead.” Then he let out a chuckle.

Still laughing, I said, “Well, Labs are famous for that, you know. They love odours.”

“I’ve got to get us back to Cambridge tonight,” he said. “And I have a rented car because mine’s in the shop.”

Celia had finally succeeded in getting the lead clipped on to Pogo’s collar and was making faces over the smell. Pogo was ecstatically pleased with himself, generously wagging the pong about.

I spent several long moments sizing the man up and watching Celia. She was about twelve or thirteen, five foot-four, roundly pretty, with a sweet bit of pudginess, golden brown hair and green eyes. She looked much like her dad, but her mouth must have been her mother’s, and her compact shape. The man was well over six feet tall, about thirty-five or forty, muscular but still a bit lanky, with a square jaw, and clearly the progenitor of Celia’s hair and eyes.

OK, I thought, they seem harmless enough. “Look,” I said. “I’m just over the road, and the hosepipe happens to be in the front garden at the moment. Do you want to come and rinse him off?”

“You’re American, too!” he said, a huge smile spreading across his face.

“Was,” I said, “about twenty years ago.”

“Well, thanks, I think I’ll take you up on the offer.” He smiled.

“All right, then. Come on Minsk,” I said and, again, she obeyed without a pause. She’s showing off for that pup, I thought.

So we left the heath and crossed the street, the American dad and me with Minsky in front, the daughter following with the happy, smelly Lab.

“Gorgeous house,” he said, as he hosed down Pogo. Celia was very quiet, I thought, quite well behaved.

“Yes, I love it. But it’s not mine. Belongs to friends. I’m minding Minsky while they’re on holiday. It’s a sort of tradition,” I explained. “They go to some exotic place, and I come to London for my holiday with the dog.”

“Lucky you,” he said. “I’m Dale,” he said. He held out his hand and I shook it.

So American, I thought. I’d been here so long, I’d become almost as stand offish as a real Englishwoman. I didn’t give my name. It seemed wise not to.

“I’ll get you something to dry him off,” I said and unlocked the door. Minsky wanted to stay outside, but I pulled her in and closed the door. I rummaged in the laundry room and found the old ragged bath towels reserved for Minsky. I grabbed a couple and took them to Dale.
“Here, these should help,” I said.

“Thanks,” was the reply.

Celia, I noticed, was fidgeting.

“Do you need the loo?” I asked.

“Yes, thanks,” she replied politely.

I motioned her inside and said, “It’s right here,” pointing to the tiny powder room just off the entry hall.

“Thank you,” Celia said. “And thank you for letting us wash Pogo, too. It’s very kind of you.”

While Celia tinkled, I searched out an old blanket that my friends wouldn’t miss, so Dale could cover the car seat where the dog would be sitting. I handed it to Celia on her way out and said, “You can take this for the car.”

“Thanks again,” she said, took the blanket and let herself out.

A few minutes later, the doorbell chimed.

Dale stood there, wet towels in his hands. “Thanks again, very much. Shall I just leave these on the step?”

“You’re quite welcome,” I said. “Here, I’ll take them.” I knew the neighbours wouldn’t like a pile of smelly old towels on a front step in their posh Hampstead road.

“Good-bye,” he called as he closed the gate.

“Thanks again,” Celia called.

They walked purposefully up the road, presumably to their car. I went inside, made a cup of tea and got down to the serious business of mapping out my museum and theatre agenda for the week.
At the end of our three weeks together, Minsky and I said a fond good-bye, and I drove back home to Ely.