CUSTODY OF ALICE

4.7
(25)

by Vandemonium1

The following is meant as a short, light-hearted little piece. There is very little new in it and contains many cliches, but, you know me, life without a twist or two is no kind of life at all. Do not take it seriously!

My thanks, as always to my beautiful partner in life, love, and crime, CreativityTakesCourage, for the edit, critique, and encouragement. Although, I’m not sure her statement of, “XXX, you know you’re fucked in the head, don’t you?”, was meant to be encouraging. 

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SCENE

Dave and Rebecca Brown, a couple married twelve years, were an hour and a half into their first tripartite, court ordered counselling session. Dave was only attending due to the strong insistence of his lawyer. Post nuptial agreements were a relatively new phenomenon in the legal system and Dave’s lawyer wanted every ‘i’ dotted and ‘t’ crossed. The previous ninety minutes had been dominated by talk between the counsellor and Rebecca, with Dave sitting, tight lipped, notebook and pen in hand. Periodically, he scribbled something on the pad.

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Rebecca’s pleas stirred the heart of the hardened counsellor, Jenny, who was also impressed by the way Rebecca accepted all blame, allaying any fears that Dave might have that her infidelity meant he had failed her in some way. Rebecca also avoided many of the bullshit excuses people in her situation inevitably trot out. Jenny was pleased Rebecca had followed this approach as she had recommended it to her when they’d met for a solo session three days prior.

Rebecca finally fell silent. The only sounds in the room were the faint tick tock of the analogue clock on the wall to the side of them and the scritch-scratch of Dave making notes in a notebook on his knee. Jenny let the silence drag on. Experience had taught her that most people in uncomfortable situations liked to fill silences.

One minute. Two. Jenny looked at Rebecca who opened her mouth as if to speak. Jenny gave a tiny shake of her head. Rebecca heeded the subtle sign and closed her mouth. Jenny decided to give the still writing Dave one more minute. If he hadn’t said something by then, Jenny was going to volunteer that Dave should earnestly think about what his sincerely remorseful wife was going through and let him in on a common statistic. Far from ‘once a cheater, always a cheater’, those caught cheating and witnessing the devastation it wrought upon those they cared for, often went on to be incredibly loyal. She waited.

Dave stirred, a slight smile playing on his face.

Good,’ thought Jenny, a half-smile lifting the corners of her mouth. It was usually better if she could get the aggrieved party to volunteer input rather than have to force it out of them.

“Well done, Rebecca. I’ll give you nine out of ten for that.”

Jenny’s smile disappeared. She was confused and, judging by the look on Rebecca’s face, she was as well. The counsellor recovered first.

“Now, Mr. Brown, there’s no need to be rude. Your wife has bared her innermost here. As you know, I met her privately earlier in the week and she is genuinely humiliated by what you caught her doing and very devastated by the pain she caused you. As she’s said today, her co-worker was an experienced lothario and she just wasn’t strong enough to resist his advances. I can assure you that with both your blessings, if you forgive her, I can work with her to give her the strength and knowledge to make sure it never happens again.”

Dave just sighed. “They do say you can lead a horse to water, but you can’t make it drink.”

“I don’t understand the reference, Mr. Brown. Are you saying your wife can’t learn how to protect herself, and by extension, your feelings, in the future?”

“No, not at all, Ms. Parkinson. I meant that you went to university for how long? Four years?”

“Six actually, I completed my masters.”

“Six years, eh, and you obviously learned fuck all.”

Affronted, Jenny straightened in her seat. “Excuse me, Mr. Brown, that was rude and absolutely uncalled for.”

“You reckon?”

Forestalling, further protests from the counsellor, Dave pulled out an electronic device from his pocket and hit a button. Rebecca’s voice issued from the gadget, pleading for forgiveness. She swore it was a one-off mistake and that he, Dave, could take that to the bank. They listened as she acknowledged how much she’d hurt him and how mortified she was she’d caused him the amount of pain she’d witnessed.

That was as far as the recording got before the outraged counsellor interrupted loudly.

“Do you realise just how upsetting and inappropriate it is to record our session? Not only that but I believe it is totally illegal in this state to record someone without their approval and consent, and I certainly withhold that.”

“That’s okay, because Margaret didn’t.”

Jenny was too angry and confused to notice the female half of her couple had just dropped her chin to her chest and was doing a reasonable impersonation of a beetroot. Jenny couldn’t remember when she’d been more offended.

“Who the hell is Margaret?”

“She was our counsellor two years ago, when I last caught Rebecca cheating on me. This was recorded then. My wife is a convincing bitch, isn’t she? Fooled me back then, that’s for sure.”

Rebecca continued to stare at the floor at her feet. Dave watched with satisfaction as she and Jenny had a silent competition to see who could go the brightest scarlet in the face.

Galled, Jenny contemplated the thoroughness with which she’d been fooled by a skilled storyteller. It may have assuaged her embarrassment to know the reason that Rebecca was such a convincing liar was because the first person she convinced with her bullshit, was herself.

Dave used the embarrassed silence of both women as an opportunity to end the charade.

“Just so there’s no doubt, Rebecca, I will be enforcing the terms of the post-nup you signed two years ago, with extreme prejudice. And that means you leaving my house with only your personal possessions, minus all the jewellery I bought you, including those two rings you’re wearing now.”

Dave paused, allowing himself the satisfaction of replaying in his head his emphasis of the word ‘my’ in his previous sentence.

“In a way, I suppose, I have to thank you. If I’d divorced your ass two years ago, the courts would have given you half of everything. Now, you get fuck all. And the only price was me having to swallow my pride for a while. Don’t worry, you didn’t hurt me much this time. Despite what the good counsellor says, deep down I think I knew you’d cheat again and so I never really emotionally invested in our relationship again.”

Rebecca remained silent, staring at the floor. The depths of her punishment and loss still not having sunk in.

Jenny, still embarrassed by her naivety, shivered at the cold, emotionlessness with which Dave was conducting himself. He obviously was as emotionally unaffected as he stated. That, or he was an even better actor than his wife. Neither woman spoke, but the aggrieved husband was far from finished.

“Give me twenty-four hours and I’ll have your shit boxed up and ready to collect. I don’t know where you’ll go or what you’ll do, but, quite frankly, I don’t care. The locks will be changed in an hour, max, please don’t embarrass both of us by beating on the door.

“Try to mobilise your family and our friends against me and the video clips I have of you and your lover du jour plus the last one will mysteriously end up with everyone you know, and I do mean everyone. I’m sure at least some of them won’t be quite so understanding when they hear how you squealed as Clive pegged you in the ass on our damn marital bed.”

Dave paused to stop the rapid build-up of his towering temper. After a dozen deep breaths he’d regained full control.

“Once the divorce is final, we can talk about your visitation of Alice. Sign the divorce this week and I’ll be generous with visitation, resist and you can kiss her goodbye forever.”

Jenny’s ear pricked up at this. Rebecca’s head jerked up and her eyes blazed in a mixture of dread and anger. Neither reaction was lost on the counsellor. In neither their solo session nor this joint one, had Rebecca mentioned a daughter, but then, she seemed to be a typical 21st century narcissist. As self-centred as a spinning top. So self-obsessed with what she could lose that everything and everyone else faded into the background. Jenny looked over to see pain suffusing Rebecca’s face now as she finally found the words that were stunned out of her brain.

”But… but… but, you can’t take my little girl away from me. She needs me, I can’t possibly live without her.”

The abject pain Rebecca was suffering at her soon-to-be ex-husband’s words were written all over her twisted features. Jenny thought, ’If only these idiots thought of the full consequences of their actions before committing their various crimes, I’d be out of a job.” She reached over and put her hand on Rebecca’s, hoping her client wouldn’t suffer a complete breakdown.

Proving himself an emotional dead fish in the counsellor’s eyes, Dave spoke quite calmly. “Maybe you should have thought of that before you were, quote, seduced by an expert, unquote. It’s all clearly spelled out in the post-nup. Fuck around again, lose everything, including custody of Alice.”

“But, she needs me.”

“Bullshit, Rebecca, she’s thirteen years old. I’ll do just as well as you could. Anyway, this isn’t the place to air our dirty laundry. You cheated, I accepted you back, you signed a post-nup and promised never to stray again, I got suspicious and had you investigated and caught you screwing around again. Don’t do the crime if you can’t handle the time, don’t they say?”

Dave stood and looked down on his soon-to-be ex-wife, who was on her knees on the floor by this point, hands together in supplication, tears streaming down her face. The look of agony on her face showed everyone in the room that for perhaps the first time during the whole sordid business, she was actually feeling remorse. The consequences of her impulsive actions finally came home to roost. With the last of her strength, Rebecca made a brief rally.

“You will not take my Alice away! I’ll fight you every step of the way.”

The counsellor stood as a helpless witness to the borderline evil grin that suffused Dave’s face.

“Please do, slut. My guy tells me it’s a cast iron agreement and it will give me the excuse I need to release my own edited little videos. Try showing your face in public after those come out, Rebecca.”

With that, the abused husband strode from the room. Jenny looked at the devastated woman he’d left in his wake and sighed. She’d better start now if she wanted to prevent a total mental collapse here, especially if the aforementioned post-nup was upheld in the husband’s favour. To have a daughter stripped away from you must be the nightmare of every mother. She reached down to the sobbing woman.

EPILOGUE

Dave Brown sat in his car until the adrenalin eased and his breathing returned to normal. He then drove home via the supermarket and liquor store, picking up a bottle of bourbon for himself and a nice piece of fish for his and Alice’s dinner; salmon was her favourite.

Tonight was the start of the rest of their lives together. What he did tonight was important. He paused with his hand on the front doorknob, determined to stick to his normal daily routine as much as possible. For Alice’s sake.

Pushing the door open, Dave Brown spoke in a loud voice, well aware of Alice’s growing hearing impairment.

“Alice! Walkies!”

The elderly Jack Russell Terrier leaped out of her basket and, tail wagging so hard her back legs skidded on the floorboards, came over to greet her dad.

THE END.

Folks, as you know I love writing these little pieces and like inspiring others to give writing a go as well. Hopefully, getting the same amount of pleasure I do from it. Honestly, if I can do it, anyone can.

Accordingly, I thought I’d explain where the inspiration for this one came from. The idea of the husband playing a recording came to me as I was reading another story where the wife was trotting out the cheater’s standard excuses to a counsellor. I can’t remember the exact story but there are plenty to choose from.

The deception with a dog called Alice came from an old lateral thinking problem. You know the ones, you give people a brief puzzle and they have to solve it by asking you questions that can be answered with yes, no, or irrelevant. My second favourite of such puzzles goes something like this, ’Alice is dead, she’s lying in a pool of water with broken glass around her and the window is open. What happened?’ With many of these problems, something about the question throws you. In this case, it’s the name, Alice. I’ve had people taking an hour to find out that the broken glass and the water came from a goldfish bowl, knocked over by wind coming in the open window. Quite often they discover Alice died of asphyxiation. Very rarely do they realise that Alice is a goldfish. I think because Alice just isn’t what you call a goldfish.

Anyways, give writing a go. I’ll help you as much as I am able.   

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NOW LIGHTEN THE FUCK UP.

Particularly relevant at the moment.

“Why look for conspiracy when stupidity can explain so much.” JOHANN W VON GOETHE

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The judge looked at Mickey Mouse with disdain. “I think it is disgraceful you are divorcing Minnie, because she is crazy.”

“I didn’t say she was crazy, I said she is fucking Goofy.”

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8 Replies to “CUSTODY OF ALICE”

  1. A secret. People comment on the realism of my writing and i think that’s due to some of it being based on real life. For example, Alice, the 13-year-old Jack Russell Terrier in this story IS my dog, Molly, who was 13 when i wrote this and going deaf. Molly was 16 years and 3 months old, a vast age for a Jack Russell, when she died peacefully (also very rare for a Jack Russell) this week. A toast to Molly, a good dog.

  2. Great to have you back .Just love y’all’s stories.Stay safe in this crazy world .Hug your wife and tell her you love her everyday lost my wife to COVID .

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