Meanwhile, back in real life......

Were talking to Youngest via Skype this morning when she dropped a metaphorical bombshell. A bombshell that suddenly connects all the dots enough for me to have one of those revelatory 'so that's it' moments.

I may have mentioned in a previous post the pestilential personality that is Mrs S's ex-husband (Although without quite so much alliteration). In a recent acrimonious exchange of angry e-mails, he has accused Mrs S of "Shirking her responsibilities" and being "a bad mother" over Eldests current crop of financial misfortunes. All this despite us taking some of our carefully nurtured capital to assist Eldest past her crisis. He has demanded Bank details. He has demanded that we pay him so he can be the conduit of funds, yet at no time has he ever listened to Mrs S when she tells him she is doing what she can from our end. We have elected to deal direct with Eldest, as I don't trust the slippery son of a bitch one nanometre.

Now for my part I'd previously always tried to treat with the guy fairly. Despite Mrs S dripping venom at the very mention of his name, I let him into the house to see his daughters and tried not to be judgemental about my lady wife's previous choice of husband material. Had I known then what I know now, I would have never let the guy in the bloody street.

I've probably blogged before that he remarried not long after he and Mrs S had parted company for good, and was now getting divorced again earlier this year, but the reasons behind said divorce were never vouchsafed in our direction. My thoughts at the time were something along the lines of the triumph of hope over experience. As well as; "Go 'way son, you're bothering me." When he came around demanding money with menaces. Now we've been told that he is to remarry in Africa, and already has a five year old daughter there. The funds he has been demanding from us that he says he wants wants to 'give' to our girls may well be somewhat anaemic by the time they reach their intended destination. Word is that he lost big time on the stock market last year, and is looking for cash to pay school fees for the latest addition to his offspring and fund his new wife and families business venture. Ergo, we strongly suspect that he wanted to siphon off some of our bloody money to pay for his new flaming family.

Three words describe my reaction. Chance. No. Bloody. Cheeky bastard. I think the phrase "he can go and fuck himself" has some synergy here.

Our girls are angry, and so is Mrs S. I can hear her steaming right now from two rooms away. My own reaction is more mixed. Amusement at his chutzpah. Annoyance that he'd think of stiffing us to fund his new familial allegiances and responsibilities. Determination to ensure that he'll never get away with trying to put one over on us again.

All I'm going to add is this; it's going in the MSS 'Stepdad'. Heh, heh, heh.