This epoch (three and a half horrible gobbled years) began in the weeks before Christmas 2015 and ended last Monday with a victory of sorts, in court. Though I'd call it rough justice. Very exposing, court, and open to all sorts of untruths peddled by unscrupulous people. You have to take a long hard look at yourself, while you are forced to look at them, those you hoped not to see again.
The #1975InheritanceAct, I am reliably told, was drawn to help the illegitimate children of men who died and so could no longer support them (if they ever had), so that ALL the children of the deceased benefitted and not just the 'legitimate ones.' The act was amended in 1975, interestingly, the year my stepfather entered my life. Here is the premise of my 1975 Act: 1966 - Beautiful woman (my mother) marries beautiful man (my father). Marriage is disastrous. Woman leaves with 3 children and snip! Cuts ties. Woman marries second, younger man. Middle child does not accept status quo. She is still tied. Upshot: She and her views have to go - this is executed (sometimes violently) by degrees, until, child 2 gets the message, which she eventually does when she is close to 50.
Though her IQ is high (or was - all that recklessly high living!) she is slow to realise what the family have been and are up to. It takes a cop with a lot to gain (an acre, plus a lot of house) to launch a public Facebook attack with his wife and daughter braying from the sidelines, and the silent complicity of The Family to make her go. Why? A bolt from the blue prize has arrived by death courier, courtesy of the woman's uncle and grandmother. A mere year later, death comes calling again and the prize passes on to one not intended by the uncle to inherit: The Stepfather pockets the cash and sells the property to the Machiavellian one. Did Machiavelli wear pink and lilac suits? Do lies smell of roses? Was his testimony like pink icing on a gently rotting cake? Did he eat all of it?
Part 2 Tomorrow