Enough, youre pulling my nerves apart! Emma snaps, her voice tight. Now youre going to sign the papers?
Thats why I left you, Mark replies, his tone flat. You never understood me. All I worry about is the kids future.
Theyll be fine, Emma says, trying to keep her composure. My mum is coming with us, too.
Coverup, Mark mutters.
Again? Emma exclaims. Im traveling for work. Im going to a job overseas. Can you grasp that?
I can, Mark nods. And I also see youll meet some foreigner, marry him, and never come back! Im not earning a fortune just to hop around the globe while the children grow up without me.
Yes, Im not planning to settle anywhere, Emma says, nervous.
I dont believe a word you say! Mark raises his voice. Youre taking your mother, and no one else. Youre basically moving the whole family abroad! Dont tell me youd stay if the chance arose I wont lose my kids because of your personal life.
Mark, unlike you, the kids stayed with me after the divorce. We have three, remember? Emma reminds him. Men arent exactly hunting women with three children these days, she adds, and Im only going abroad for work.
But I cant forget the children. While Im working, my mum will take them to theme parks, beaches, and other attractions.
Your mum could do that here, and you could go wherever you like, Mark says with a strained smile.
Mark, dont be worse than you already are, Emma pleads. The children are on holiday, Ive got a job abroad, and its peak season. Let them have a proper break and enjoy themselves!
They have nothing to rest from yet, but they can still have a good time back home, Mark retorts. Because of your overseas romance, I wont give up my right to be part of their upbringing. I already spend half my salary on them, so I have full entitlement!
If its about money Emma starts.
No! Mark shouts. Its not about money. I dont want to lose my children!
So thats how you see it? Emma asks, tense.
Exactly. No other way. I wont grant permission for the kids to leave the country.
Good thing I raised this now, Emma sighs. I knew it wouldnt go smoothly, and persuading you seems pointless.
Absolutely, Mark says smugly.
One more thingare you in a relationship now? Emma asks.
What does that have to do with anything? Mark looks taken aback.
Im asking as his exwife. Answer me.
No, Im single, Mark admits. When half my salary is gone, I cant even think about dating
Well sort the salary issue, Emma says. And well even improve your financial standing!
What are you up to? Mark asks cautiously.
Nothing. The court is coming. Youll file a petition to decide where the children live while Im on a work assignment abroad. Consequently, you wont have to pay maintenance, and Ill give you half my pay. Then the kids, as you so desperately want, will stay in the UKwith you.
Youre out of your mind, Mark stammers.
Otherwise Ill sue for loss of parental rights. Paying maintenance isnt enough; not being involved in their upbringing is grounds for removal. You havent visited since the divorce three years ago.
Mark stands frozen, like a statue in water.
But you could simply sign the consent for the children to travel abroad, Emma says, smiling sweetly enough to make Marks stomach turn.
The kids will stay with me, Mark says robotically.
Great! I have three months before I leave, enough time to settle everything. And as extra help, I can send my mother with you!
Everyone sees that Mark and Emmas marriage is doomed. Theyre too different, their relationship built on loud accusations, empty promises, and grand plans. Their youthful optimism never quite faded.
When they first married, friends even placed bets on when theyd split, openly shouting, How on earth do they live together? The couple managed occasional trucesEmma would concede sometimes, Mark would bend at othersso there was a sliver of hope their families clung to. Every new argument made their parents nervous, wondering why the young ones were so tense.
Emmas parents gave her a flat, demanding renovations and furnishings. Because of endless reconciliations, the work dragged on. Living in a halffinished house was inconvenient, but when Emma became pregnant, the repairs had to speed up. Mark, a handson labourer, finished the renovation two weeks before their daughter was born. Emma, a designer at heart, wanted more, but a newborn forced her to accept what was done.
Mark could handle cement, timber, and plaster flawlessly; sweeping floors was beneath him. He could wash workclothes, strip paint, and clean debris without trouble, but he refused to load the washing machine or hang the laundry. Cooking was tolerable, yet he despised the chore.
Their marriage teetered on the brink of divorce for eleven years, yet somehow they managed to stay together, even having two more childrensomething no one could quite explain. The divorce finally hits hard. Mark packs his things, wishes them well, and disappears for three years, leaving no word. Their eldest daughter, fourteen now, the middle son, ten, and the youngest daughter, six, grow up without him, except for occasional maintenance checks reminding Emma that Mark once existed.
A twomonth overseas assignment appears for Emma, with a generous package: accommodation, expenses covered, and permission to bring all three children plus a companion. She moves quickly, realizing she needs Marks consent. He refuses, forcing a swift legal battleafter all, hes not exactly a model father.
Emma worries about leaving the kids with Mark for two months, but the older daughter, now a confident teen, helps with the younger ones. The son and youngest can understand enough to manage. Mark is told his former motherinlaw, Elaine, will act as a chaperone, though in reality shes a local council officer appointed to keep an eye on him, ready to intervene if he steps out of line.
Two months later, Emma returns to the city and calls her own mother to check on things.
Hes lost about twenty kilos, dark circles under his eyes, looks like a panda, Elaine jokes. He owes me thirty pounds, too.
How are the kids? Emma asks.
Theyre happy. Built a makeshift shed in three days. When he tried to protest, I stepped in, showed him the law, Elaine says. He even reads to them now.
Are they fine? Emma worries.
Olivia keeps them in check, and Daniel even reads to them, Elaine assures.
Good, Im relieved.
Emma keeps her return lowkey, but a citywide manhunt is launched for her. A week before shes due back, Mark spreads the word, offering ten pounds to anyone who spots Emma, promising a reward for returning the children.
When Emma finally walks through her front door, Mark bursts in.
Take them back now! he shouts.
Im not even back yet! I only came for a week; my contract runs a year! Emma retorts.
Youre lying! I was at your work, they said you wouldnt go anywhere else! Mark insists.
You actually visited my office? Emma blinks.
I spoke to the director personally, Mark boasts. So hand the kids over, or Ill bring the paperwork to you by force!
Mark, you dont understand, Emma says, halflaughing. Weve already been to court, decided the children live with you, and I pay maintenance. If you want me to sue again, Im too busy. Ill keep paying and visit every couple of weeks if you dont object.
Mark turns pale, sweats, and looks on the brink of fainting.
You were the father of the year, won the court, now youre supposed to raise them! he roars, lightning flashing in his eyes. Ill try to be a decent weekend dad, unlike you, who never showed up in three years!
Mark, please, take them. I have no strength left. Ill visit every weekend, I promise, Emma pleads. Im desperate.
Mark collapses to his knees, crawling toward her.
Please, he whispers.
In court, the drama is palpable, the children end up under childservices watch, labelled no juggling kids. Yet assessments find the kids treat the whole mess as a bizarre adventure. In the end, the children regain a fatherflawed and inept, but a father nonetheless. Years later, they hold no bad memories of Mark; though he never earned any father of the year trophy, he tries his best.
