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