“I’m not giving up Hope!” Liz screamed into the phone at her ex-husband, before slamming it down.
Floods of tears drenched her face. She slowly lifted herself up off the floor, his words ringing in her ears. “Unfit mother, child neglect, no prospects.” How could he have said those things? He hadn’t had been that interested in Hope when he lived with them, why would he suddenly want custody?
After she had calmed down, she tried to reason it out. He’d never spent much time with them when he was at home. She doubted if he had even had the slightest idea of when Hope’s birthday was. He’d missed the fact that his daughter was besotted with him. It just didn’t make any sense.
It was only three weeks later when Social Services paid a visit. Checking up on the welfare of the child, the lady had said, as Hope had been absent from school.
It couldn’t have been at a worst time. The washing machine had broken down and there were piles of dirty clothes everywhere. She’d be up all night nursing Hope who was still vomiting. Liz answered all the questions as best she could, but felt that there seemed to be a hidden agenda.
“How much money is your ex-husband giving you towards child support?”
Liz looked at her blank.
“Is he giving you anything towards the cost of bringing Hope up?” she tried.
“Not a penny.”
“How are you coping then?”
“We get by, the food banks have been great, a real lifeline.”
“But what about when Hope needs new shoes?”
“My friends help out whenever they can.”
“I see” the visitor said as she wrote up her notes.
When she left Liz thought she seemed more conciliatory than when she arrived.
Something was up, Liz’s instincts told her. A visit from Social Services so soon after her husband’s phone call. An overheard conversation in her local chemist confirmed her suspicions. She went straight around to her husband’s flat.
“It’s all her idea, isn’t it? The conniving bitch, she can’t have children of her own so she wants to steal mine!”
“ Liz “ her ex-husband said as he tried to interrupt her flow.
“I don’t want Hope anywhere near her.” Liz finished before she ran off up the street.
That was probably not the best plan, she reflected later as she sat at her dining table. I might have given her more ammunition against me. How could I have been so stupid? She started to write down anything, anything that she thought might persuade a judge in her favour.
