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workmates were about any more, now that she was stacking shelves on night shift in a local supermarket. She secretly hoped if he was gaoled she might be able to sue him through the civil courts and top up what superannuation she had left, now that her husband John had left.
    John had been unhappy with his wife. He knew of her bullying tactics and bursting aspirations. However, he was a trifle scared because his brother-in-law belonged to a well-known bikie gang. He thought about Dave Smith and how the entire episode had been orchestrated by Barbara. Did Joan’s cancer happen as a result of the bullying? He wished she would just accept a restraining order. She kept repeating how dangerous Dave was as if she was trying to tell herself how fearful she felt.
    â€˜Why did you go to the funeral, Barb?’
    â€˜I didn’t want my friends to think I was spiteful.’
    To which John replied, ‘What friends? They’ve all disappeared off the radar.’
    â€˜So you think he’s not dangerous, do you?’ Her tone was sharp.
    He did not reply and she added an afterthought. ‘You’ve always been piss weak anyway.’
    John puffed his thin chest out and his face flushed red. He avoided confrontations with her as she always took the high ground, shouting him down. The anticipation of another court case which she might lose did not appeal to him.
    He skimmed through life like a swimmer who concentrates on ploughing through the surface, never diving to investigate the world beneath. John’s mind was overflowing with too many memories of put-downs by his wife. It was as if he had at last dived deep and seen another world.
    â€˜I’m leaving you tomorrow.’ His speech was delivered gently, clear and unashamed and without fear.
    Her eyes grew as wide as tea cup saucers for a brief moment until the old merciless tone of rudeness bobbed up and flowed out like a torpedo being released from a submarine. ‘Fuck off, then. Go on, fuck off now.’ And just to add as much humiliation as she could to her words she said, ‘I’ll find someone with a bigger dick than yours.’
    However, her spite fell on deaf ears, as John was hurrying away in the blustering wind and noisy traffic, his bags already packed and his airline tickets to Thailand in his pocket. Sue, his new friend in that country, where he had been promised a job teaching children English, would be waiting for him in the house which he had bought for her
    Smithy stood in the dock unrestrained, being on bail. The facts had been placed before the Supreme Court, where he had pleaded guilty at an earlier hearing. The judge shuffled his papers. Secretly he did not wish to pass sentence as he had served many years in theReserve forces and had seen war zones at first hand. He made up his mind to make the sentence as short as possible for the veteran warrant officer standing straight before him. His lawyer had tried as hard as possible for his client yet the soldier resisted all attempts to explain his SAS service, though had otherwise made full and frank admissions all along.
    The judge was forced to state that being a trained soldier with all the skills of killing it would be remiss of him not to put in place a custodial sentence. He noted that the defendant showed some contrition yet it was not coupled with remorse. The possibility of an appeal hung in the air.
    Smithy saw the hard-looking men in black suits sitting at the rear of the court and made some accurate guesses who they were. ‘Spooks,’ he said to himself.
    â€˜You are sentenced to six months’ gaol. Three months will be served as a suspended sentence.’
    Smithy nodded and replied, ‘Yes, Your Honour.’
    The judge stood, as did the rest of the court, and left via his rear door. Smithy was led out to the waiting van.
    Barbara Mitchell felt some unease when she walked from the court into the fleeting sunlight and looked up. A black cloud followed