RUB A DUB, DUB

On Friday a judgment was handed down by The Honourable Mr Justice Moylan in the High Court in which he carefully analysed the evidential value of hair-strand testing for alcohol. “While hair analysis for the use of drugs other than alcohol has been used for many years, hair testing specifically for alcohol use is a relatively recent and developing science, at least in the field of forensic toxicology,” he said. “It is clearly particularly important when new scientific tests are being used for forensic purposes that they have a sound basis which makes it appropriate for the results to be used in court proceedings and which is sufficiently explained so that the court and the parties have a full understanding of the evidential basis both of the tests themselves and of any opinions based on the interpretation of the results of such tests.”

The tests have been designed to establish a pattern of drinking over a period of time but are not conclusive because ethanol is present in all hair, even that of teetotallers. Indeed traces can be the product of the environment, or the body’s metabolism and can result therefore from certain foods and cosmetics.

All of which reminds me of a case I was involved in once upon a time when Mrs Hardened Drinker’s contact with her children was severely limited because of allegations that they were at risk in her care. Hair strand testing was suggested by her husband’s lawyer as a means of satisfying both her husband and the court that, contrary to his client’s assertions that she even kept a stash of beer and brandy in the bathroom cabinet, she was not an alcoholic. Mrs Hardened Drinker was keen to prove her innocence and readily admitted the store of alcohol in the bathroom claiming not that it was medicinal, but that she used it to wash her hair. I have to admit that whilst she had a tendency to sway and slur her words when she came to see me, her hair was always glossy.

Inevitably hair-strand testing was deemed unlikely to be conclusive in the circumstances and much to Mrs HD’s chagrin she was asked to take a series of blood and urine tests instead. When the results were known, she was again able to explain them with reference to her bathing techniques. Apparently she didn’t just wash her hair in an alcoholic cocktail, but was accustomed to filling the bath with the beer and liquor before lying back to gloss her hair and occasionally and accidentally swallowing some of the alcohol that surrounded her. It was unfortunately clear from the results of those tests that she must have been taking more than the odd sly sip.

AN ASSAULT

Having discovered early in life that I suffer from disco leg, I don’t rock-climb (nor indeed dance for that matter) preferring to leave the ropes, shackles and vertical ascents to Outdoor and Apprentice Men, joined on the occasional foray by Little Girl. I do however regularly skim books and magazines on the subject when the others leave them within reach. Whilst away in the Lake District recently I, therefore, found myself reading about climbing routes on Pavey Ark. It became apparent that as new routes are discovered they are given more and more flamboyant names, but one I really have to take issue with, Extreme 4 or not, is Assault and Matrimony. Whatever could have been going through the minds of those original climbers? Assault is a criminal offence and coupled with matrimony is domestic violence as well. Maybe they could think about calling the next one Assault Me Divorce You.

AVENGED

Last week sailing through the Sound of Mull to Tobermory, we passed Duart Castle. There, in the sixteenth century when only English kings divorced, and believing his marriage to be a disaster, Lachlan Cattanach, the Maclean chieftain, ordered his wife to be tied at low water to a rock which dries out. As the tide came in, he left her to drown and then sent a message to her brother, the Earl of Argyll, telling him of their sorrowful loss. The Earl sent a message back offering his commiserations and inviting Lachlan to visit and dine with him. Touched by his brother in law’s empathy, Lachlan accepted. When he entered the dining hall, however, who should be sitting next to the Earl of Argyll but his wife! She had been fortuitously rescued by passing fishermen.

According to the story nothing was said and the meal passed pleasantly. Indeed Lachlan was even allowed to leave at the end of it.

Revenge, it is said, can take a long time coming. In Lachlan’s case it took some 30 years, before he was found murdered in his bed!

DUMPING DANGERS

Events last week highlighted the dangers that can follow the ending of a relationship.

The news was dominated by the story of Raoul Moat allegedly shooting at his ex-partner, killing her new boyfriend and severely wounding a police officer, leading to the grim spectacle of armed police tracking him down in Northumberland.

In the same week Akmol Miah, a 15 year old boy, was given a life sentence at the Old Bailey for setting fire to his ex-girlfriend’s home after she’d ditched him, killing both her and her sister.

Whatever is happening here? Is the country filled with dumped maniacs fuelled by the passion of vengeance? Should would-be partners be asking to see the results of mental health and CRB checks before dating, or for police protection when ditching?

MEN BEING FORCED INTO MARRIAGE

At first glance a headline like “More Men Being Forced into Marriage” might make you think that Alpha females, afraid of being left on the shelf, are now asserting their desire to wed on somewhat less committed and easygoing boyfriends. The truth is far scarier. According to the Forced Marriage Unit its helpline was used by 65% more men in 2009 than 2008 and it wants to raise awareness of the issue because naively we assume that the victims are always women. Apparently men too are vulnerable and indeed 14% of cases reported last year related to males perhaps to secure a visa, or to preserve a family’s reputation. 80 cases have already been reported to the unit this year and some involve the sexuality of the man in question, with his family forcing marriage to hide the fact that he is homosexual. The Unit believes that it is harder for men to seek assistance than women and is urging professionals who work with young people to be vigilant. This is not a situation where divorce is the answer. Instead our law now permits protection orders to be obtained to prevent a marriage taking place or to protect a person when it has and the Unit offers confidential advice.

THE DARK AGES

This week Bristol Crown Court is dealing with the trial of a farmer accused of murdering his wife after she demanded a divorce and £800,000. Around the corner in Swansea, the Crown Court was told today that a husband killed his wife and dumped her body by a motorway in a suitcase after they rowed over his use of casual sex websites.

Are we retreating back to the Dark Ages? What is so wrong with a “quickie divorce” when it's alleged that there are people who insist on a more insidious solution to achieve what they callously perceive as an “easy fix?”

TEAM PLAYERS

Get families together and, if they’re anything like ours then after a large meal (priorities first) there’s nothing better than a game pitting brother against sister, in-law against out-law or husband against wife. Charades is probably still one of the most popular party games for such occasions. At New Year with a bottle of whisky in one hand and a Christmas cracker in the other, can there be anything more exciting than watching great uncle Henry attempt to mime “Gone with the Wind” for the amusement of his extended family?

There are of course now hosts of boxed games catering for the yearning within to make a fool of yourself whilst competing for family honour in a mini domestic Olympics.

This festive break we played two games in particular, “Articulate” and “Outburst”. They were aptly named, and watching those around me indulge in gamesmanship or attempt to cheat their way to success, I quickly learned why a failure to articulate adeptly or unnecessary outbursts of bad temper and indignation can ruin many a relationship. Indeed my best advice for those who are potentially vulnerable or faint hearted would be to stick to card games instead. "Happy Families" springs to mind!

WIFE DUMPING

The UK’s first ever Wife Carrying Championships took place at the weekend in Northern Ireland. According to Wikipedia the sport was introduced in Finland but has since spread to Estonia, the USA and Canada and now it seems here as well. There is an International Wife Carrying Rules Committee and this has provided that the track must be a mix of sand, grass and gravel; be 253.5 metres in length and contain two dry obstacles and one wet one. Also the wife must be at least 49 kilograms in weight and, somewhat disturbingly, need not be the carrier’s own wife but could be his neighbour’s or even unmarried. Whatever the relationship, several were reportedly dropped on the ground at the weekend, not least when couples attempted the water jump. Oh well it’s gratifying to learn that divorce and separation aren’t the only way wives get dumped these days!

BELFAST

Belfast is a city with a recent history of violence and therefore until recently shunned by tourists. Fortunately all that is changing and during our holiday we spent a pleasant afternoon a couple of weeks ago, strolling around its centre.

Greeted by the delights of the Crown Liquor Saloon (a Victorian Gin Palace now in the hands of the National Trust), we moved on past the Opera House, City Hall and Albert Clock Tower (Belfast’s answer to the Leaning Tower of Pisa) to the River Lagan and views of the twin cranes named Samson and Goliath that dominate the skyline. The sights mentioned all contrasted with the new developments that are taking place including the recently completed Victoria Square Shopping Complex and around the dock area.

Tours are also offered to the slipway from which the Titanic was launched and around Harland & Wolff’s historic offices. “Going down like the Titanic,” is not however a phrase that you want to hear when you are sailing, so we shunned that option along with a black cab tour of the Shankill and Falls Roads area of the City.

I’m not convinced that we should ever be keen to promote ourselves by showing a pride in violence or troubles at home, though finding the strength of character to overcome such and being proud of that achievement is another matter. So it is that, akin to the regeneration that has been taking place in other northern industrial cities like Newcastle and Liverpool, Belfast is now quickly becoming an attractive place to live and visit.

KINGSHIP & SACRIFICE

On our recent sailing trip we paid a visit to Dublin. In a city famed for Guinness and friendly craic, if a change of scene is sought then I can certainly recommend the National Museum of Ireland particularly its exhibition area entitled Kingship & Sacrifice. There amongst the other exhibits of an earlier age are the actual remains of Peat Bog Men uncovered in Ireland. They had all met gruesome deaths especially the young man destined never to be King, whose nipples had been cut so that devoted subjects would be unable to suckle from them. It would be nice to think that almost 5,000 years later the human race had moved on and abuse and violence no longer exists. Sadly, as we know, this is not the case, not even in the home where everyone should have the right to feel safe.

RUSSIAN REVENGE

Oh dear we’ve just had another story of the effect excessive drinking can have on relationships in Russia. Like this report, it’s nasty and presumably will require a full investigation and the potential for criminal sanctions. Dear reader, never ever murder your spouse no matter how enraged you might feel and stick to couch potatoes not sandwiches.

DOMESTIC SERVICE

Reuters today reported that an Italian man has been arrested for kidnapping his former girlfriend. (Click here for the full story). Apparently he took her back to his home and forced her to wash up and iron for him. In England Northern men, as epitomised by Andy Capp, are reputed for their lack of skills on the domestic front and there’s many a woman I’ve advised who feels that she has become no more than an unpaid skivvy. That said I would struggle to recall a case so blatantly chauvinistic as this one, and to think I thought Italians were famed for their irresistible romantic charm!

TWO IN A ROW

Somewhat belatedly, I have just read in quick succession “Angela’s Ashes” and then “Paddy Clarke Ha Ha,” by Frank McCourt and Roddy Doyle respectively. Both are tales of childhood in Ireland, albeit a generation apart. What struck me the most though was the raw deal the wives and their children got in both books. Physically and verbally abused, it was women in such situations that the “new” divorce legislation in this country was meant to assist. Except even if the writers’ mothers had been able to divorce, it’s hard to see how it would have made the slightest difference to the authors, their siblings or their parents. You can’t legislate to make an absent father see his children, stop drinking or behave like a proper role model. Also is there any gain in seeking divorce if society castigates the families still further, women remain second class citizens or there is no adequate structure to provide for them financially? Fortunately the social situation here and in Ireland too is not as it was sixty and forty years ago. Sometimes one has to read books like this to realise how far we have advanced in such a relatively short space of time and also how much still needs to alter.

READING MATERIAL

Generally I like to read a book before I recommend it to anyone, but I can’t resist pointing you in the direction of “If You Want Closure In Your Relationship, Start With Your Legs: A Guide To Understanding Men,” by Big Boom. Apparently it has just won first prize in a poll for the oddest book title of the year, leaving “I Was Tortured By The Pygmy Love Queen,” by Jasper Mc Cutcheon in second place. Click here for more details.

I have checked them both out at Amazon but curiously as yet nobody has rated, reviewed or even admitted to reading them.

THE YEAR OF THE RAT

“A rat” is a term used frequently by clients, usually female clients, to describe their spouses to me. The image conjured up is always of someone who has been underhanded or deceitful. So it is that today the Chinese celebrate their New Year and with it the beginning of the Year of the Rat. I wonder, does this mean an influx of fraud, dishonesty and cheating? I decided to check with a Chinese zodiac and learned that “On the whole, this will be a happier year than most: free from explosive events and wars….Nonetheless, it will be spicy. It promises a lot of bickering, bargaining and petty arguments.” Oh well so that term rat is going to remain in common parlance for the foreseeable future then.

ON CHESIL BEACH

I have just finished reading “On Chesil Beach” by Ian McEwan. It is a beautifully crafted book, with an ending I had not anticipated and at only 160 pages it is relatively short (the key to a successful book according to one of my colleagues who, I suspect, dislikes reading).

The downfall of the two protagonists lies in their inability to communicate, something they appear to regret indefinitely. An ability to communicate effectively lies at the heart of every good relationship and frequently an inability or reticence to speak up can destroy a marriage. Burying heads in the sand and suppressing feelings never resolves conflicts and eventually in anger or frustration the whole relationship can shatter, sometimes on the back of an almighty argument but other times with an enormous sulk.

On Chesil Beach, Edward and Florence fail to support and reassure each other. They fail at what they most want to achieve. Their self –pride injured, hurting and in pain, they each accuse, goad and humiliate the other. They become trapped in a dialogue over which they have no control and, responding in anger, automatically play the parts of sparring partners. Losing all self control they utter words they cannot help but which they regret forever.

Yes Florence apologises, but only as she turns and lingers before moving on. Edward fails to seize the opportunity to forgive, to support, to reassure. Pride intervenes and the opportunity to make amends or resolve the situation is lost.

Young, immature, and innocent, they are unable to respond effectively to the other or communicate their feelings. What exists between them is destroyed as a result and yet it need not have been that way, indeed it ought not to have been so.

In fiction reality is suspended. McEwan is a master of his art and even a seasoned divorce lawyer like myself didn’t foresee the devastation.

NEGLECT

I have been guilty of neglect. It came home to me tonight when I realised it was time to go round and water my house plants. Now I really love flora and fauna and my house plants in particular but there still never seem to be enough hours in the day to tend to their needs. Hence it was with guilt and realisation that as I finally undertook this little job, not only could I not remember when I had last wandered around my home with a jug of water, but I was also appalled to see how unhealthy they all looked. When others rely on you for a two way relationship, you have to fulfil your side of the bargain. I have not.

ONLY WORDS

I have been talking to Little Girl’s English teacher this evening, and was treated to a discussion about the written word by someone who loves her subject. I was also handed the school newsletter in which the Head Teacher quoted something he had heard on a news programme about the forthcoming Presidential elections in the USA, when it was said that “we campaign in poetry and govern in prose.”

I think I can add to that: We marry with poetry, live together with prose and sadly can divorce with slang and insults.

CULINARY DELIGHTS

In what is frequently referred to as God’s Own Country, it is not surprising that food plays an important part in Keralan culture. Whilst there we were treated to dosais (pancakes made from rice and lentils), idlis (steamed rice cakes) and vadais (fried doughnuts made from lentils), bhajis and pakoras as well as curry and freshwater fish, seasoned with tamarind for taste. With an abundance of coconuts, pineapples and bananas not only are monkeys and elephants well-fed but even Little Girl managed to find enough to eat without resorting to the more heavily spiced curries favoured by Outdoor and Apprentice Men.

It was not surprising, therefore, that when I dipped into Bollywood Movies, I came across the following culinary linked expressions in the English sub-titles:
“Gruel, chutney and sprouted lentils for you!”
“I won’t let his lentils cook in Kerala.”

If I understood the meaning correctly then I think that they could be readily translated into gourmet divorce English as:
“I’m not cooking for you any more. Instead you can live on porridge made with water; pickled onions and seed potatoes!”
“I’m not letting him cook toast and warm his slippers at my fireside again.”

Of course feel free to leave your own translations by way of comment should you wish.

THE FIFTEEN STREETS

Yesterday evening I went to see an adaptation of Catherine Cookson’s “The Fifteen Streets” at Darlington Civic Theatre. I confess that I have never read a Catherine Cookson novel, but Latimer Hinks was one of the joint sponsors of the production and I was happy to attend. With my roots very firmly in the North East I was confident that I would find some empathy with a storyline set in the docklands of Tyneside during the early part of last century. I was not disappointed; with family infighting, verbal and physical abuse, a fatal accident, romance outside of the class structure, the subjugation of women, miscarriage, hunger, poverty, and a teenage pregnancy, the tale appeared to have everything. Or did it? Of course, there was no divorce. For the inhabitants of the Fifteen Streets life was incredibly harsh and whilst they had most things to worry or gossip about, in the times of Catherine Cookson’s youth, divorce was not one of them. I hesitate to guess that if she was gaining material for her novels today, they would have a different inclination.