Once more unto the breach...

This week has been spent arguing in an increasing state of desperation. Two weeks after I wrote to the Queen Bitch offering an out-of-court settlement, she then sent me a peremptory do-what-I-say-or-you're-dead e-mail, making me a counter-offer and saying I had two and a half days to accept it, otherwise her lawyers would land me with the whole costs of the subsequent court hearing. I was, at the time, in Hamburg. Fortunately on my return I had already booked a meeting with my lawyer, otherwise I'd never have been able to arrange one in the time. We discussed the thing, and I decided, with adjustments for a few disputed calculations, to accept the offer. Today I was told that the offer had been withdrawn and would only be considered if I produced certain papers which I haven't got. Otherwise I get landed with all the costs, etc., etc.

Now, obviously, in cases where children are involved, one tries to keep the open rancour under control. But, after this, not any more. My children have already suffered enough under the divorce and the fact that they have a mother who belongs in an exceptionally secure zoo. Don't ever think you can settle a divorce case amicably. The vile malice against a man who's chosen to reject her, simply because she is horrible and he only realised it too late, coupled with the almost bankeresque greed, will always come out in the end. Don't really know what the solution is - I have a friend who's doing seven years in Belmarsh for trying to hire a hitman, and I'll be interested to hear his views - except to suggest that getting married should be a thing one just doesn't do. It goes against the grain to espouse (ha! ha!) such a trendy viewpoint, but basically the state doctrine of marriage is that possession of a pair of cojones means that a) everything is your fault and b) you are not entitled to any money or freedom ever again. The girls who charge seventy quid a time, or whatever, are hugely morally superior. God bless them.