As the annual epistle of Christian spirit and goodwill approached, Sarah did not feel much like celebrating, not just because she was going through a horrendous time but because she felt the whole Christmas thing was just one big lie also. In her mind it was all about: commercialism, excessivity, family warfare and home truths, alcoholism, misadventure and tragedy, poverty and misery.

            But she went through the motions, just like everyone else does, with erecting and decorating the tree full of baubles, icicles and chocolates.  She decorated the walls, wrapped parcels, played Christmas carols and she cooked turkey, stuffing and mince pies - all for the sake of the kids. 

            There was no goodwill or glad tidings intended from the Gregory camp. In the run up to Christmas, the antagonism from his quarters was glaringly evident.  The exasperating thump on the windows, the piercing bright torch beams penetrating the windows intermittently, the reverberating doorbell, the odd thwack against the wall – of a rock or other heavy object, the clouting of the brickwork, the deposition of refuse all over the drive, the departure of the bins and messages of doom, all re-commenced.

            But despite the nightly window vigil, the culprit[s] remained unrevealed, until the early hours of xmas eve.

            In the twilight hours, Sarah was engrossed in a late night romantic saga when she became aware of her letterbox being opened.

            “Merry Christmas darrrrrling,” Greg slurred.

            She startled, then fumbling with the zapper, hastily turned off the TV, hoping Greg wouldn’t realise she was up and would go away and leave her alone.  Luckily she was already sat in darkness.  She hoped he couldn’t hear her heart pounding and she frantically struggled to control her breathing, so’s not to give the game away.  He was well oiled and she was terror-stricken, dreading what he was about to do next.

            “I know you’re up sweet-pea.  I’ve just come to give you a Christmassssss messaggggge,” he sputtered almost incoherently.  “Tomorrow, I’m taking my kids far, far away from here.  You won’t have a clue where they are and you’ll never see them again…. You think that Jack and Leila Dunn will be watching over me, don’t you darrrling?  Jjjjust like you commanded.  Wrong again sweetie-pie.  Jack and Leila and all the other church leaders are on my side.  You see…. we are all ffffriends.  Jack and I used to work together.  So we have an understanding…. if you know what I mean.  You know…. favours.  He owes me one.  I can do anything.  You forget; I’m special.   Like I said, you won’t see Jason and Jessica after today.  They’ll be with me; where they belong.  They don’t need you or those two dimwit sprogs of yours.  They’ll have their daddy and Kim and Lee and their nain and taid and all their aunties, uncles, cousinsssss.  But they’ll be miles and miles and miles away from here.  I told you I’d get even with you.  You must know I’m a man of my word.  Oh…. and by the way…. I’ve decided to let you live.  I’m enjoying watching you suffer.  I have my spies watching you too.  Have you felt ‘eyes’ on you?  They’re all around you.  Oh my poor little bird with her wings clipped; hasn’t even got the police to protect her.  Ha ha ha.  Hasn’t it dawned on you yet my little princessssssssss that you’re totally alone - all on your tod!  Even Jimmy O is working for me, not you.  Everyone’s laughing at you - the court, the police, the church, social servicesssss.  Just like they did with Cara.  So how do you feel now?  If I were you I’d give those two little slumbering babies a long hug and a big kiss and say your goodbyes to them because in only a few hours time they’ll be with me.  I did warn you.  Happy Christmas, sweeeeeetheart.”

            Then it went eerily quiet.  Sarah sat crouched up on the couch, hugging her knees for comfort.  She cried quietly and pitifully, sobbing from the very depths of her stomach.  His haunting, stinging words gyrated and agitated inside her throbbing head and she knew his pledge was not hollow.  It was for real.  She just knew it.  Her body shivered and shook so violently with wretched despair, fear and cold.  How frosty the room felt and yet the fire was roaring hot like a raging flow of lava.  She could not bear to lose her babies - any of them.  And she could not afford to take chances.  Ok, he was pie-eyed and legless, but just the same he was evil - an out and out nutter - hell bent on revenge.  And his words did ring true; Cara did lose her children.  The police did seem to be on his side, social services were listening to him and troubling her and her own solicitor was pushing her to agree contact.  The omen was valid, it was deadly and it commanded a mountain of respect.  It did cross her mind that she could be walking blindly into a trap, but she didn’t want to play Greg’s dangerous games and she didn’t want to gamble.  She didn’t know where to turn.  So she made up her mind that she was pulling out of the contact arrangements and to hell with the consequences; she’d do a runner herself if need be, with all her kids in tow!

            In the morning she phoned Leila at the church to explain why she could not bring the babies to meet with their father.  She spent over half an hour detailing what Greg had put her and her children through during her relationship with him and afterwards, and she stated that she took his threats seriously bearing in mind the fate of his ex-wife and the lack of assistance from the so-called ‘protecting’ agencies. Leila seemed sympathetic, made all the right noises then commented that Greg had become a regular churchgoer and was well liked and highly respected by everyone there.  She then informed Sarah that she was praying for them both and that she was asking God to grant Greg regular access to his children.  Sarah pointed out that she wouldn’t think so highly of Greg if she knew him.  She explained that he was devious, a fibber and a fabricator and knew exactly how to get people on his side, especially those that matter, for his own purposes, to be dropped and discarded when he was through with them.  She said he could sweet-talk any kid into giving him their last rolo and he could sell sand to the Arabs.  She pointed out that he was a practised professional conman and she stressed that what was most worrying of all was the fact that he posed a very real danger since he’d already carried out some of his ugly vindictive threats.  She recounted the tragedy of her mother’s cousin who also used to be involved with a calculating, callous, control-freak; just like Greg.  On the first day of his awarded contact, he took their twin four-year old girls off into the woods and murdered  them.  Then he killed himself.  The mother was grief-stricken, never forgave him and never got over it.  She ended up literally losing her mind and having to exist in a mental institution for the rest of her days. 

            Sarah asserted that God would not want Jason and Jessica to be exposed to the risks that their father epitomized and that if it were Leila’s children whom they were discussing in this light, she would not be so keen for contact to ensue either.  Leila reacted as if she could not comprehend what she was hearing, as if she was totally oblivious to the evils of mankind, as if she’d been cocooned all her life.

No sooner had Sarah put the phone down than the doorbell rang.  It was her ex-husband Glen.  He didn’t come round that often; he’d made a new life for himself down South but he always made a point of turning up to see David and Anna at Christmastime and on their birthdays.  He’d come laden with presents but would not stay long, just long enough to swallow a cuppa and some sandwiches. 

Everyone liked it that way and today was no exception, but his latest piece of news rocked Sarah to the core.  Glen told her that Greg had recently phoned him up two or three times begging him to file for custody of David and Anna because they were allegedly living a life of sheer misery with their mother and were desperate to escape.  He’d known that Greg was lying and he’d gathered that his ex-wife and Greg had parted company but even unexcitable cool Glen had been shocked at Greg’s vicious intent and degree of rancour and revenge.

It didn’t stop there either, Greg had got his embittered malevolent mother and his cousin Donna Black to phone Glen a few times pleading for him to start custodianship proceedings.  They claimed that David and Anna are regularly beaten up, locked up, used for slave labour and cursed by their mother. 

And there was more!  Sarah learned that Greg had actually made the two hundred and fifty mile journey to visit Glen’s house to inform Sarah’s ex-husband face to face in minutiae detail of all the gross, despicable, disgusting, degrading, heart-rending, sordid, savage, inhuman incidents of child abuse that were being inflicted on his children by their mother.  He’d gone to explain why it was critical that Glen immediately commence care proceedings as his children’s lives were in peril. 

Sarah was now well aware of why Greg wanted her address book so badly and wondered how many other friends and acquaintances he’d contacted and spread such outrageous, offensive, revengeful rumours to.  There really were no words strong enough to describe hateful, ill-disposed, bloody-minded Gregory Potter.  He was quite simply downright dangerous; a despicable little man.  But the irony was that everything he’d accused Sarah of administering to her children was a description of his own scandalous behaviour to a tee.  Glen passed a comment that she’d made the right decision in giving that, “vengeful bastard the big heave-ho.”