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A Matter of Timing

This could have gone into SciFi or Humor, but as this involves a selfish cheating wife ... if you don't like the story, well at least it's short, and you could always tell me so. As you are fully aware, anyone with the balls to write and share this cannot be hurt by words or single stars, only apathy.

*****

A Matter of Timing

Set in the very near future.

It was the opening divorce appeal court case of the day, the public gallery already filling up fast, long before the antagonists arrived. Clearly, the wife fighting the divorce entered first, a tall, normally slim, presently heavily pregnant woman, in light blue summer frock, was accompanied by her smartly-suited and bewigged QC. A troop of other smart and no doubt expensive lawyers marched behind in support. A frail old woman sported a walking stick, while her other arm was tucked into the arm of the pregnant woman. They made themselves comfortable at their assigned seats, the lawyers setting out folders of notes, while the old woman shuffled into a reserved space in the gallery immediately behind. The young woman threw a cardigan over her shoulder to combat the cool courtroom and sat, confident, contented.

The husband entered moments later, wearing a green tweed jacket, brown woollen trousers and an open-necked cream collared shirt. By his side, a single young barrister, suited but not as sharply as any of the wife's numerous briefs.

"All rise for the Honourable Judge Smith QC!" starchily announced the clerk of the court.

All rose as the judge, a bewigged mature woman of average height, spare build, dressed in a flowing black gown, entered and sat facing the court. She wore a stern pinched look, her eyebrows arching.

While everyone else sat, the clerk rose, passing a slim folder to Judge Smith, before turning and addressing the court.

"The Divorce Hearing of Saunders versus Saunders ordered both parties to take consultation leading towards reconciliation. This Appeal to that decision, is petitioned by the plaintiff Mr Alexander Saunders on the basis that the marriage is irreconcilable, due to Mrs Rebecca Saunders' pregnancy, conceived outside matrimony. Mrs Saunders contests the conception was dated well before the date of the said marriage."

There was a pause while the Honourable Judge quietly read the notes, before looking up.

She addressed the Counsel for Mrs Saunders. "These notes state the Saunders' wedding was eight years ago, correct?"

"Yes, Your Honour, Mrs Saunders has sworn an affidavit, which I beg leave to read out, if Your Honour would graciously allow."

The judge stared hawk-like at the heavily-pregnant woman, who smiled back serenely. The judge also noted the defiantly scowling husband, whose junior brief withered under Judge Smith's scornful gaze. She decided to hear the statement.

"Go ahead, read."

The Queens Counsellor stood, "Ahem, my client would like to state the following:

'I have always been obsessed with rock music from the late 1960s, when my dear Grandmama was a teenager. She filled me with wonderment of those times and I absorbed everything, studied the music and written extensively on the subject. Last year I was appointed Professor at London University in my specialist subject. My dear husband, Alex, doesn't share my tastes, preferring to play folk music on his old guitar. However, Alex is a brilliant inventor of household gadgets, so we are ... comfortable, ready to start our family.

'His obsession was building a Time Machine. Last year he achieved that goal and made several experimental trips back in time. He filled me with excitement at the possibilities of meeting my Grandmama's idols at first hand. So, without his knowledge, I took a journey back to the Swinging Sixties, where I met my idol, days before his tragic demise. I am now carrying his twin children, conceived in 1969, years before taking my marriage vows.'

"That is the end of the statement, Your Honour. As you can see from the notes, Mr Saunders cannot divorce my client on the grounds of adultery and, under terms of their prenup agreement, whoever petitions for divorce has to surrender all assets to the other and walk away with nothing. Since the Appeal was made, DNA tests proves the father, who died in 1969, beyond doubt."

The Honourable Judge Smith pondered a moment before addressing the Plaintiff, "An unusual situation, Mr Saunders. Do you have new evidence to submit supporting your appeal?"

The plaintiff arose and spoke, "Your Honour, my wife was persuaded to take this course of action by her witch Grandmother-"

He was interrupted by the grey-haired woman behind Mrs Saunders who stood and hurled a strangled "Wimp bastard!" and shook a fist at him.

Judge Smith gave the old lady a withering look before warning her of future conduct, before turning to Saunders.

"New evidence?"

"None, Your Honour, I-"

Justice Smith intervened, "Without new evidence, I rule this Appeal invalid and the original award for reconciliation consultation upheld."

Mrs Saunders smiled smugly, crossing her swollen legs with difficulty. The ruling meant that Alex would have to support his wife and children, or otherwise give up everything he owned, including his latest invention, worth untold zillions.

"No! Wait!" Alex cried.

Everyone in court focussed their attention on Saunders. He lifted his left arm, pulled his sleeve up and fiddled with a phone-like device. His image shimmered for a moment.

Then in a flash, he was almost instantly replaced by a man of similar height and build but with unfashionably long shoulder-length hair and thick drooping moustache, wearing a long multicoloured kaftan, strings of beads around his neck and a battered old guitar, covered in stickers, strapped to his back.

His brief, noticing Alex was wearing cotton trousers and sandals, couldn't help gasping, "So, it's true!"

"Your Honour," Alex declared, "I'm withdrawing my Divorce Appeal in order to apply for an Annulment on the grounds that my wife is also ... my granddaughter-"

"What?!" came a chorus from the defendant's lawyers.

The old woman sitting behind the lawyers in the gallery stood momentarily before fainting away, causing further commotion.

"No! It's not possible, my grandmother absolutely hates you!" Mrs Saunders screams, "She would-"

"Of course she's always hated me," smiled Alex, "I'm the spitting image of the boyfriend who jilted her pregnant skank groupie arse, all those years ago."

The end.

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