FIRST DAY IN COURT
“Listen! Stop fucking worrying; nothing is going to happen in a mention”!
You cannot put a monetary value on emotional solace, and Joe Pitt definitely didn’t fit the profile of a SNAG. (Sensitive New Age Guy). Though I wasn’t exactly asking for a hug of comfort in my time of distress, “stop fucking worrying” was no consolation amid what I thought was about to be the ruin of my life.
Julia arrived with an entourage that would be fitting for Watergate. If the tactic was meant to intimidate me, it worked. It worked so well, in fact, that I regularly needed to piss, and that was before we even walked into the court building. We arranged to meet Joe in the café adjoining the court's main buildings. Julia’s arsenal consisted of three senior male solicitors wearing perfectly fitting suits; in addition, two females, one very senior and the other much younger, were waiting just outside the entrance to the Family Court main building. Then there was Julia, her sister Ebrill and her semi-illiterate, fat, ugly friend Bertrude. In my corner, it was just me, Joe Pitt, (albeit not the Perry Mason I would have liked-), and a barrister who was running late.
As my second latte was served, my barrister Rodney walked calmly in, and Joe introduced him. My immediate thought was that I was screwed! Rodney was young and even younger-looking than he was.
“Today is just procedural, Mr Cutler,” Rodney said with his boyish face.
“Evan, you must listen to our advice very carefully today,” continued Joe Pitt.
Were they prepping me already for what was to be a disastrous outcome by the end of the day?
“Have you seen Julia’s counsel?” I asked my legal team.
“Yes,” replied Rodney.
“The barrister is Beverley Ripp. She’s particularly good at what she does and has years of experience in family law.”
I turned to Joe Pitt and asked him sarcastically how Rodney’s reply was supposed to make me feel better.
“It’s not,” he said abruptly, packing his glasses and sheets of paper into his old brown briefcase.
“Now, I’ve told you every day this last week, and I’m telling you again.
“Stop fucking worrying; nothing is going to happen in a mention.”