The Long Road to Justice

Finding a good divorce attorney is like looking for the proverbial needle in a haystack. Unfortunately I know only too well from bitter experience that legal practitioners can be slipperier than a bucket full of eels, and as venomous as a black mamba.

After separating from my second ex wife, due to her infidelity and unreasonable violent behaviour, I went in search of an attorney, choosing randomly from legal practices I happened upon walking around town. The first one turned out to be an ex boyfriend of my ex wife's sister and still held a torch for her. Too close to home for my liking, and it only got worse from that point on.

The second attorney asked me what my problem was then gave me what transpired to be bad advice about how I could recover personal belongings she wouldn't let me collect. He also mentioned that he was an old sailing buddy of my ex wife's uncle. At the end of the half an hour meeting he told me I would have to pay him 150 euros. I didn't pay. I also later discovered that he had behaved unethically towards some very good friends of mine business dealings. By-eeee.

Finally I settled on a very young attorney reasoning that he'd be unlikely to have built up any bad reputation and would be more up to date with any changes in the law. He also told me that he spoke very good English, which turned out to be a lie. And that was not the worst of it.

This young guy told me that my divorce would be in two stages, the first stage was the actual paperwork divorce, and the second stage, after the first stage was complete, would deal with the division of assets. He also said that the second stage had to take place in the capital of the province due to the size of our assets. When the first part was completed and I asked him when we could begin on the second part he told me there was no second part, that my divorce was complete. So the second stage story was complete bullshit.

Worse still, through nothing less than his legal incompetence, I was denied access to my son for three months. My ex wife, in an attempt to deny me access, sought an injunction against me saying she was a vulnerable female and didn't feel safe. And so an injunction was issued which meant I could not go and collect my son. I asked the young attorney to get the injuction over ruled and he said it was too late. So I instructed him to ask the court to appoint a professional intermediary I had found at a place called the Meeting Point, which he intentionally failed to do. In the end I went to the court myself and organised it. It cost me forty pounds a month, but it was worth it, at last I could see my son again and not have to deal with her or break any injunction.

As far as the divorce was concerned I was getting very frustrated as my ex was running rings round me. So I spoke to a very good female friend of mine who introduced me to a clerk up at the divorce court, a woman who was able to guide me towards better attorneys. However, due to the fact that I had applied for and got Legal Aid, in the end I was allocated a pro bono attorney

After my first meeting I felt a lot more optimistic. The guy was very smart in both meanings of the word. He was well dressed and intelligent, which filled me with confidence. Alas alack it was not to last.

In short, with the evidence I had provided him with, the man convincingly won my case and I was awarded a very large sum of money which he had proven beyond all doubt was actually all my money to begin with. Then he dropped me a bombshell.

This shameless thief informed me that his bill to my ex was 10,000 pounds. Furthermore, he would take that 10K out of any money she sent to settle her debt with me.

When I asked him how come, if he was a pro bono, he was able to raise her a bill for that 10K he told me he had changed my status from pro bono to private client, without any consultation or permission of mine. Fortunately by this time I had acquired a wonderful friend who was an excellent attorney who advised me that the thief was not allowed to change my status nor take 10K from my award. So another one bit the dust, and to get anything he had to change me back to pro bono.

Meanwhile I denounced him to the law society and I was allocated another attorney to finish the process off. In the end, due to lots of ducking and diving on my ex's part, I never did get a penny of the money I had been awarded anyway.

However, I did learn a very valuable lesson in the law thanks to the wannabe thief. The money I was awarded was mainly for a brand new car I had bought. At the time of purchase she had persuaded me to put the car in her name, which I very stupidly did out of my love for her.

When two years later we separated she took the car away from me and sold it. I was gutted and furious. Even at two years old it was still worth a great deal of money. Fortunately my wannabe thief of an attorney did his homework and found a legal precedent.

Many years ago two lesbian women got married and the father of one of them bought them a house. Of course he put the house in the couples's name. However, that didn't really matter when they separated and the man's daughter in law tried to get a share of the house. You see proof of ownership does not depend upon whose name the property is in, it depends upon who can prove that they paid for it. Having a property in your name merely indicates that you are the registered keeper, but not the outright owner. So do bear that in mind if you ever find yourself in a similar situation.

As for my car, I never ever got so much as a single penny for it. It was paid for from a lifetime of hard work long before I met my second ex. So she did not just steal my car, she stole my history.

A nasty little post script to this part of my story; after I won the car in court my ex rang my best friend in the UK and asked him if he would go to Spain and go to the police with her to say that I had asked him to find me a hitman to kill her! This was a blatant attempt to get me sent to jail with an atrocious pack if lies. Of course my friend refused to play along and asked her why. Her reply was "Well he won his case for his car against me and I want my revenge.!"

The last attorney of mine was also a waste of space, failing to inform me of a court date and going there in my absence and pleading guilty on my behalf. The case had originally been cancelled a year earlier and I was told that I would be informed of a new court date more or less a year later. Neither the court nor my attorney bothered to inform me of the new date.

The first I knew of it was when I received notification of the sentence by post.

The Enemy At The Door

My ex wife's first attorney was yet another snake in the grass. I first met him in all innocence about who he was. I had just come out of the local Law Society headquarters and gone for a mid morning coffee across the road. In the cafe what seemed like a friendly local came over and paid for my coffee as he sat next to me. He looked like a gun slinger from the old Western cowboy movies, but I guessed we can't all help how we look.

He asked me where I was from and what I did for a living. I answered freely, I told him I was English and a teacher by profession. He then asked if it was a good, financially beneficial job and I told the truth, it was hard to find a full time job and not very well paid. He then said he thought that I should give some thought to getting work as a translator. Less than ten minutes later I got up and left and thought no more of him until about a year later.

My wife was pursuing me for an increase in child support and I had to go to a trial to speak in front of a judge about why I wasn't paying my ex more money. Suddenly I saw that gun slinging friendly local in the waiting area and asked the secretary who he was. I was flabbergasted to hear her say "He is your ex wife's attorney sir." OMG. Fortunately I had asnwered him truthfully. But the very thought that he had conducted an illegal and unethical soft interrogation knocked me for six. Anyway, regardless of that within ten minutes he strike me a blow that would ruin my new business forever.

I had started a new language academy contracted to local schools as a self employed external supplier. I organised after school English classes using school facilities and paying them a commission to cover caretaker and cleaning costs. My clients, the parents, paid the school, the school deducted their commission and forwarded the rest to me. Out of the money received I had to pay half a dozen teachers, materials, social security for myself and all teachers, accountancy fees and of course taxes, corporation taxes, personal taxes....it's a lot. I was the hardest working and worst paid person on the books getting no more than about two thousand pounds a year.

The gunslinger had been to the authorities and demanded a copy of my IRPF, which was my income tax return for the year. He sat at a desk next to me in front of a female judge. "You say you haven't got very much money, true?" I answered yes."So how is it that this IRPF I have here in my hands shows that you received fifteen thousand pounds from xyz school?"

I told him that that was a gross figure of money received by the school before all of the above deductions. The bottom line told the real picture about how much I had earned. His stupid reply stunned me.....

"Well I'm not interested what you choose to spend your money on, all I am saying is that you are a liar. You received fifteen thousand pounds?" He then he went in for the kill.

"Your honour..." he said "Can the court write to that school and demand to know how much they are paying this man as an employee?"

"Are you totally stupid?" I snarled "I am NOT an employee of the school, I am a self employed external supplier. You have the proof in your very own hands! That document you hold is specifically for self employed workers."

He turned to the judge and said emphatically, "Your honour, can we please write to the school anyway, I believe that this man is a liar." The judge amazingly acquiesced, and it cost me my business. I got well and truly screwed.

A week later I got a letter from the school saying they had received a letter from the courts and had replied to the court that they could not possibly know what I earned as I was not an employee of theirs. The court sent that reply a letter insisting that the school tell them how much I earned. At that point the school, fearing the seizure of money received from parents for payment to my ex wife via the courts, rendering it impossible for me to deliver classes due to having no money to pay teacher salaries and buy materials etc, cancelled the contract. Six teachers out of work and me out of money to live on. I wept buckets out of frustration when I got that cancellation letter from the school. And that bastard gunslinger was not finished with me yet, although I did toughen up and give him quite a few slaps back further down the line.

I really wish I could say that it was a minority in the legal profession who pull dirty tricks, but I can't. On the contrary, the opposite is true.

At yet another hearing in front of a judge, once again the gunslinger, acting like a proper little Perry Mason, was on the case. This time I was sat in a passageway waiting to go in to see the judge. We were waiting for the translator to arrive as we could not start without him or her.

Now in Spain, everybody whose native language is not Spanish is entitled to a free translator, and it is highly advisable even if like me you are fluent in Spanish. Courtrooms are where you will hear all sorts of legal jargon which can put you at a very big disadvantage. For example 'Una falta' is a relatively minor legal indiscretion, whereas 'Un delito' is a serious crime. So you really need to know what you are pleading to. Anyway.....

As I sat in the passageway the gunslinger was marching purposefully up and down the narrow hall. And every time he drew level with me he would in a very theatrical way stop and click his heels. Then looking scornfully down at me he would flip open a hefty file and start to leaf through the pages, then stop, pretend to read something and start tutting as he shook his head, as if to say "Oh dear, you have no idea what I have got on you mate, you're going down." It was laughable. The guy was a total prick full of himself. After a few minutes of this nonsense we were called in by the judge.

I had to be seated in front of the judge and a stenographer. To my left side stood the translator. Circling me behind, left to right (trying to unsettle me by making me nervous, fucking idiot) I was asked why I wasn't paying my ex more money and gave the same answer, I have not got it, simples. Then the gunslinger stopped dead and said "Ok, one more question...." I swear to god the theatrics were hilarious.

He stood in total silence grand standing, shooting his cuffs and taking deep breaths. A minute passed and he said nothing. Another minute passed and we were all still waiting. Eventually the judge got pissed off with him and said

"Emanuel? Can you get on with it, if you have a question ask it or we are done."

The monster did as he was told by the judge. "Do you not think that you are morally obliged to support your son?"

The translator started to translate and I stopped him. I'd had quite enough of this fool. "Ok, please, don't translate, I understood him perfectly well." Then I turned on him and spoke in Spanish. "YOU are an absolute disgrace to the legal profession. How dare you try to teach me about morality." I then turned to the judge "Your honour, Perry Mason here not too long ago conducted an under cover illegal and unethical interrogation with me about my finances, pretending to be a friendly local. And I will not be preached about morality to by this disgusting fool....."

The judge's jaw dropped, the stenographer too, her hands hovering over the pc keyboard. "Do I type this exchange in to the system Your Honour?"

The judge spoke firmly, first to the stenographer "NO." Then to the gunslinger. "Emanuel, you cannot ask the gentleman such a question, this is not about morals, and from what he has just said you have a lot to learn yourself. I'm done. Goodbye." And still this cock of an attorney wasn't finished, there was yet more to come.

Some time later my attorney friend offered a free helping hand. Salvador found out that my ex's new attorney, was a very good friend of his called Antonio. Between them these two guys worked out an amicable solution. I was to cancel my legal pursuit of her for the money I was awarded for my car, and she in turn would cancel all legal actions against me for any further child support. The money owing for the car was enough for about twelve years child support. So one day we all met at my attorney friend's office to sign the agreement. I have to say that was so disagreeable due to my ex having a hissy fit that even Antonio, her own attorney threatened to walk out on her. Begrudgingly she signed, as did I and the two attorneys.

However, one more case against me was the very next day and too late for her to cancel. What happened next, with the gunslinger retard, beggared belief.

First my ex went over to speak to him to tell him we had made an agreement and so not to go through with the trial.

"Sorry, no. It's my job." said the fool.

My ex's new attorney Antonio said to the fool "listen, whatever you lose by cancelling, I will pay it to you out of my own pocket Emanuel." Still he refused to play ball. Antonio told him he was actually going against his own clients instructions asnd putting a new signed agreement at risk. If he broke the agreement by refusing to cancel then I would also cancel and go after her for the money for the car. Still the swine refused to get with the programme. However, he did begrudgingly agree to not interrogate me. And with that we went into court.

The judge had been informed as to what was going on with the new agreement and turned to gunslinger and said "Emanuel, what are you doing? Your own client doesn't want this, her ex husband doesn't want it, and I certainly don't want it." All he could get out of enemy was "It's my job." Then he tried to interrogate me after all.

"You say you have no money, but I have an IRPF here showing income of fifteen thousand pounds."

I stared at the pratt wanting dash over and giver him a good thump. Instead I very calmly said "You've had the answer to that many times sir. I will say it again. That 15K is the top line. The bottom line, the money I am left with after all costs have been deducted is around 2K a year."

"But do you not think you are morally obliged to support your son." The judge jumped on him "Emanuel, you know better than to ask that type of question.

"Ok, so tell me how with fifteen thousand pounds at your disposal you cannot pay your ex wife child support."

"Your honour, I have already answered these questions in discovery, he knows the answer. And since he has ruined my business I now have even less money. I am struggling to get by."

"But, once more I will ask you....." he persisted. He got slapped down by the judge immediately. The judge intervened.

"Emanuel, the man has answered your questions, enough already. No more questions, thank you."

"But Your Honour......"

"EMANUEL....I SAID NO!!!"

And that was the end of it.

I say that was the end of it, but not quite. Two years later my ex broke the agreement and denounced me again for child support. The judge was told about the agreement but refused to accept it and awarded her fifteen thousand pounds. When I enquired could I then re-instigate my action against her for the money for the car she stole and sold I was told no, the case had been archived and could not be brought back to life. What a bitch the law can be at times.

One last time I saw the gunslinger when I went to a lovely cafe for an afternoon coffee. I saw the swine sat on the patio with some pretty middle aged professional looking woman. It looked like he was on a date. So I decided to give him a taste of his own medicine. I walked towards him then stopped about ten feet from him. I did nothing but stare at him in as threatening a manner as I could muster. His date was looking at me and then him, no doubt wondering if I was actually going to thump him. I just stared at him for about two minutes and could actually see he was getting nervous. Then I broke eye contact and went inside. Two minutes later he came inside and marched over to my table.

"Who are you? Do you know me? What do you want with me? Why were you looking at me in that way?" he boomed aggressively.

I spoke in a very low voice "I haven't a clue what you are talking about. I suggest you get out now before I make you sorry and call the police to have you arrested for assault. Get out you horrible little bastard." Then the cafe owner came out of the kitchen and kicked him out. And out he went. It was a small victory and pretty petty I admit, but it made me feel better.

Also worthy of a mention in this salutary tale are some of the minor players in the legal profession. I only mention these to point out one or two other little pitfalls to avoid if you can.

Way back in 1995 I placed a thirty thousand pound deposit on a new build apartment, buying off plan. We were promised that it would be ready to move into by 1996. However, in the end it was not built until 1999, by which time I was divorced. Anyway, I had a year or two earlier sued the builder for breach of contract and shortly afterwards, before I could get my money back, they went bankrupt.

One day I got a call from yet another new solicitor of my wife's saying that he could get the money back for me. So I went to his office in town, very swanky and artificial. He told me he wanted fifty percent of any money recovered. Good lord, these people really do think they are dealing with retards. Of course I politely declined, the next one not so politely.

Yes, another new solicitor. This one told me he had a document that was guaranteed to get me my money back. There was just one condition, I had to agree to give my ex wife half the money recovered. I insisted on seeing the document first.

The all important document was in fact a letter from the builder, addressed to me, apologising for the delay and offering me all my money back plus seven percent interest. So they were trying to get me to give fifty percent in exchange for a letter that she had intercepted and that was mine to begin with. Then I noticed that the offer had a time limit which it had long since gone past. So the bloody paper was by now useless anyway.

When I asked my ex why she hadn't given me the paper she admitted that she was hopeful of being awarded the apartment on the basis that she had custody of our son. What the stupid woman did not realise is that you cannot claim an apartment that had not been built and therefore does not yet exist. So that was thirty thousand pounds down the bloody drain.

Finally, let me just move country, to the UK. My first ex also played the let me piss him around over access to the children game all divorced men with children know only too well. So I went to court and asked the judge to make my children wards of court. In theory, this is great as it legally enforces access to children. However......the judge declined my request telling me he was sorry but although he had the remedy to hand, he was very reluctant to use it. Why? Because if he does use it and still the wife refuses access then the judge is legally obliged to punish her, either with a jail sentence of with a hefty fine. And that, explained the judge, is something which would have a negative impact on the children, a mother in jail or short of money to pay a fine is bad for kids. So no ward of court. Crazy I know, but that is how it is.

Going back to my second ex, in 2014 she illegally removed my son from Spain and the authorities in neither country would do anything to help. Of course, my ex was ably assisted by yet another bent attorney. Now I have to say, this one totally eclipsed the others in shit-housery.

The very last time I went to court was (late 2013) about being refused access to my thirteen year old son. This was the beginning of the end, though I did not know that at the time. I won that case with a female judge. I love female judges, got a lot more bloody sense than their male counterparts in my experience. Anyway, my ex claimed that our son did not want to be with me (which was a lie) and she was told it was not my son's decision. It was up to his mother to encourage and support contact with his father. So I won the case and started getting access again. All well and good huh? Errrrr, no, not exactly.

In court, one thing caught my attention, sitting directly behind my ex were a middle aged couple, a woman and a man. The woman was conspicuouse as she was wearing some sort of woollen headwear, the sort of thing you see cancer sufferers wearing. I didn't know who they were exactly, though did seem to be supporting my ex. Ok, fast forward a little.

In the spring of the following year my ex called me and said she had a friend who wanted to help us and could we meet in a bar somewhere. She said his name was Paul and he knew a little about the law. And she refused to say what sort of help she thought we needed. So I asked if I too could bring a friend and she said yes. Two minutes later she called me back to say Paul had said no to me bringing a friend. Ok, I said, then the meeting is off.

A week later I got a registered letter from an attorney called Paul saying that I had to go to his office in town and that if I declined it could have a negative legal impact on my access rights in court. So I went, just to see what it was all about.

A week later I went into Paul's office, which was plastered with dozens of certificates about all the different legal courses he had completed. Compensating for something there, I thought. Then a female colleague came in, wearing woollen headwear that cancer sufferers wear and suddenly the penny dropped. These two clowns were the very same people I saw sat in court behind my ex last year.

Paul told me that he was an intermediary appointed by the county council free of charge. Then he asked me if I would like custody of my son. "Of course" I replied, excited at the prospect. He told me my ex was going to work in the UK and wanted to leave the boy with me until she returned at the end of the summer. "Fine, I mean yeah, great, let's do it."

So Paul told me to come back in two days to sign some papers with the agreement. On the appointed day I found myself back in Paul's office. Also present was my ex and my son. Paul took my son to a play room and left me with my ex for a few minutes. Ahhh, ok, so they are tagging me like a couple of wrestlers.

"You are going to have to start to trust people sometime, you know, said my ex sincerely. Ha, I immediately smelt a rat. You don't ask for trust, you earn it. And my next thought to myself was, "Ok they are about to pull something here, be very careful. Do not trust these two.

Then she went to be with our son in the play room and Paul came in and sat behind his desk.

"Ok, so if you can just sign here he said as he slid a blank piece of paper across his desk."

"Errr, well no, I want to show it to my attorney first."

"No,no,no, you can't trust attorneys. In fact as I told you, I am your attorney."

"No you're not, your her friend from court last year man. You're the friend of hers who wanted to meet me in a bar a few days ago. You are most definitely NOT my attorney." He was slowly getting agitated.

"Look we haven't got time for you to take it away, trust me, it says exactly what was agreed the other day."

"Ok, then let me read it, my Spanish is excellent these days."

"No, that will take too long, here let me tell you what is says, it'll be quicker."

"Why the rush all of a sudden?" I asked.

"Because she is leaving the country on Sunday. That's why."

"Not my problem mate.No! Not without reading it first."

Paul jumped up from his desk chair and thumped his leatherette desk top violently "Why are you fucking me about man? Sign the fucking thing now as you agreed!"

Of course I knew by now it was all a fix. I told him he needed some anger management classes and I stood up to walk out.

"You don't know what a golden opportunity this is to have your son." he called after me as I went down stairs and out the front door.

Well my ex left the country and left my son at her elderly mother's with instructions to not let me see my son. When the next time I went to pick him up for the weekend my ex mother in law refused to let me have him saying my attorney Paul had said I was not to have my son.

Not too long after that I was up in court and was given a document, a document Paul had been trying to strong arm me into signing. He had submitted the document to the courts unsigned.

I was appalled, though not too surprised, at what I read. It said that "I confess that I do not love my son and want no more to do with him. I equally accept that my son does not love me and wants no more to do with me. I accept that I have a drink and drugs problem which makes me an unfit parent for my son."

I have never ever in my bloody life touched so much as a joint of weed. My drink problem is a glass of sherry once or twice a month a month. Of course I reported the swine to the Law Society and he was banned from practicing law for a month. His revenge was to send me a bill for his services as an intermediary, 750 pounds, and if I did not pay up in seven days he would take me to court.

I did check if he was a free intermediary supplied by the council and no surprise at all to discover that no such scheme exists and he was not on any other list of approved attorneys. So I reported him again and he was banned for three months. After that he took to screaming and shouting insults at me every time he saw me in the streets in town.

In the summer of 2014 my ex returned to Spain and illegally removed my son to the UK and I have not seen nor heard from him since. Neither the British nor the Spanish authorities want to help. So, in the end I waited a few years before I had to give up waiting and walked away to Asia.

So here I am in 2023, retired and living from from all that trouble. I spent a total of twenty years in and out of court with dozens of trials. I was in court so often security thought I worked there. Even other staff went looking for me on the payroll just to know who the mystery colleague was.

The net result of all those trials was I won each and every single one of them, and yet I lost everything that ever meant anything to me. In Spain an ex wife can keep anything of her ex spouse' as long as she can say it is for the child's benefit. For that she kept my very expensive business computer, my clothes for when he grows up....the list was endless.

At one point I tried to retrieve my things and she refused saying I had to pay her storage for a year first. She also told me in Spain everything was hers to use, sell or even burn if she wanted. One day one of my attorneys called me to say "Quick, she's put lots of your things outside with the rubbish in a storm." I went as fast as I could, too late. I found about fifty plastic shopping bags filled with important papers and valuable antique books all wet through and ruined.

However, the most important thing I lost was my health. When I got to Japan in 2020 a full routine health check revealed that sometime in the past I had had both a silent heart attack and a mini stroke. Thank the lord I was blessed with meeting and getting married to an amazing woman who goes to work and then comes home fill my days with unadulterated joy.

My past experience told me it was unwise to get married a third time, but I got a good feeling about Sara and it has paid off. Yes I lost two businesses, two cars, two homes, about a quarter of a million euros and finally my children with my previous divorces. But I have peace of mind and love in my life and that is worth King's ransom.

The Takeaway

Ok, so I have managed, I hope, to point out some of the pitfalls of an acrimonious divorce. Remember, if you set out to destroy somebody, you better dig two graves, one for them and the other for you. Unfortunately some people, without wishing to sound misogynistic, usually women, are so consumed with hatred for their ex that it over rides their love for their children. Had my ex been more cooperative and reasonable we could have all had a very good life. Yes, she cost me everything, but she also caused an awful lot of damage to herself and our child with no great benefit to herself. I guess it’s true, you can’t fix stupid.

Right at the very start of this truly awful experience I did try to get her to work with me rather than against me, but she refused. She has a sister a lot smarter than her who got divorced and still to this day works for her husband. They both have their own house and a very good business, and above all common human civility for the sake of their own health and well being, and above all for their children.