Fullepub 
Chapter 29 Darcy
29 DARCY
NOW
From: [email protected]
Hi Darcy,
I understand what you’re saying, but as the court has issued a notice of proceedings there’s not a lot we can do. When you return from the Maldives we can talk more about gathering evidence to refute your ex-husband’s claims in relation to his petition for full custody. The court will be invested in which parent the boys prefer to live with, and they will also want to know about your relationship with your sons.
In the meantime, please make a note of the court hearing on October 24 at noon.
Best,
Anthea Wallis (she/her/hers)
Partner, Head of Divorce, Family, Finance & Children
for and on behalf of Wallis Bennett LLP, Solicitors
Darcy stares at the email on her phone, her heart sinking. She knew Jacob would do something while she was gone. Your ex-husband’s claims…
They will also want to know about your relationship with your sons .
Given that Charlie hates her guts, this isn’t going to go well.
He looks up to his father. Jacob will have stirred him up, found a way to get Charlie on his side. With tweens, it comes down to which parent allows the most screen time, or which parent will allow them to download Snapchat. She was vehemently against it: no social media until he’s at least the legal age. And then she found he had Snapchat, TikTok, and Instagram already on his bloody phone, as well as a few others she’d never heard of—Swipr, Yubo, Wizz. It’s a bloody jungle for parents, now.
God only knows what kind of stuff he’s been watching, or who he’s been in touch with.
She made Charlie delete the apps off his phone, and he threw a tantrum.
What the court will hear, though, is that she’s a bad mother. She’s too strict, doesn’t respect boundaries. Kids are so informed these days. Just the other week, she told Ed he couldn’t have chocolate cereal until the weekend. “That’s child abuse!” he shouted.
And then there was the trip she took Charlie on to prepare him for his performance in the school play. God, how it backfired.
She exits her inbox and dials Jacob’s number. He answers on the fifth ring, sounding like she’s just woken him up.
“For Christ’s sake,” he says. “It’s the crack of dawn—”
“Why are you doing this?” she demands, no time to butter him up.
“It’s too early for this, Darcy. We’ll discuss it in court.”
“No,” she snaps. “I don’t want to discuss it further in court. I want to discuss it now. I want to understand why you would do this to our children .”
“Like I said,” Jacob says, “we will discuss this at the appropriate time and place.”
“You want to annihilate my reputation, is that it?” she says, her voice wobbling. “You want to destroy my life? Tell me, Jacob. What have I done that makes you hate me so much?”
He sighs. “I don’t hate you, Darcy….”
“Then why do this? Why deprive the boys of their mother?”
He pauses. “Because Charlie asked me to.”
She swallows, hard. “You’re lying.”
“I’m not. And it’s interesting to hear you accuse me of lying, Darcy.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“Look, Charlie doesn’t want to live with you. And I want Ed and Ben to live with me, too. It’s unfair to separate them.”
She draws a sharp breath, bile rising up her throat. This isn’t about their children. This is about control.
“Who told you about Adrian Clifton, Jacob?”
“It doesn’t matter who,” he says. “Why don’t you tell me what he’s been doing with my software, Darcy? Or do I have to ask through a lawyer?”
“What are you talking about?”
“A lawyer it is.”
He hangs up. She stares at the phone and sobs. It’s over , she thinks. Everything in her sphere has been set up for the boys, her whole life arranged around theirs. Jacob is charismatic, commanding: he’ll win this case, she knows it.
Somewhere in the villa, another phone rings. She looks at the phone in her hand for a few moments in confusion, until she remembers that she brought her other one. But that phone shouldn’t be ringing.
She hurries up the stairs, listening closely. Where the hell did she put it? She’s sure she unpacked it. She goes into the bedroom and scans the space, but it’s difficult to follow the ringing sound. It’s in here, but she can’t pinpoint where…. She tries her empty suitcases, zipped up and placed neatly inside the wardrobe beneath her dresses, then the chest of drawers.
Third drawer down, the ringing stops. She pauses and holds her breath, looks at the dressing table, at her toiletry bags. There, in the zip pocket of the little Orla Kiely bag containing holiday-size shower wash and period pads, is the tiny little black rectangle of her burner phone.
She takes it out and hits BACK to see who called her. It’s a mobile number from the UK, beginning +44. The last three digits are 606. She calls it back, holding her breath as it rings. On the sixth ring, someone answers.
“Hello?”
She knows that voice. Darcy freezes, then quickly ends the call. She slumps back and runs her hands through her hair, reeling.
Why the living fuck would Kate be phoning this number?
