Wednesday 19 July 2006

Our Family Law Lacks Commonsense!

Yvonne Roberts, award winning journalist, has written this excellent article for the Guardian online. Emphasis added by EPC. It's all commonsense really, but unfortunately our government doesn't appear to have any commonsense at all! They continue to stumble from one failed policy to another. We have an idea! Why not try approaches that are actually working elsewhere?

Rules of disengagement
Yvonne Roberts
July 14, 2006 04:43 PM

Two billion pounds in child maintenance owed by absent fathers will never be paid. Another billion pounds has been wasted in trying to reform the Child Support Agency in the past three years. Now, it is to be axed and replaced by a mish mash arrangement of bailiffs (that's really going to help ruptured family ties) and a new "streamlined body" that intervenes only in the most difficult cases where couples cannot come to their own financial arrangements.

Who on earth does the government think the CSA is supposed to help now? These are the leaked proposals of Sir David Henshaw who has conducted a review of the CSA. It was a review constrained from the outset by its limited remit - only look at the bureaucratic red tape and the question of dosh, not the lack of support for the human turmoil that precedes one wage packet being divided for two households.if these proposals have been reported accurately, Henshaw also suggests tough sanctions against "deadbeat dads" including seizure of passports; electronic tagging and community service. All of which will only lead to buckets of extra blood on what is already a post-divorce and separation battlefield. One positive suggestion is that instead of losing a pound of benefit for every pound gained in maintenance, the resident parent will be able to keep benefits up to a threshold.

At present, it costs 70p for every £1 of child support collected. The hours of anger and frustration trying to contact the CSA, typified by one of my friends who has rung without results 27 times in a fortnight, goes uncounted. This shambles, however, was all so utterly unnecessary.

Before the British CSA was set up 13 years ago, civil servants visited Australia - where the satisfaction rate of both parents with the CSA , hits over 90%.In Australia, efforts are made to discover why a father isn't paying. Is he unemployed, ill, depressed, has he a large second family, is it family conflict? Does he have alcohol or drug problems. How can he be helped to sort himself out? The approach is holistic - it's not just about cash, it's about government recognising that, if children are involved, family life has to be helped to continue even after the adults' relationship ends.

The British civil servants came home - and, did it all differently. The result has been a bureaucratic disaster outstripped only by the distress and financial hardship and frustration of mothers and fathers to the detriment of the children.

Where we go from here, however, is not a matter for Work and Pensions Secretary John Hutton - who is expected to back the review's findings. The very fact that maintenance is deemed solely a matter for work and pensions betrays the fatal flaw. One that guarantees years of further cock-ups and unpaid maintenance.

Child support; contact and access to children after separation; an understanding of how relationships work; an awareness of the emotional needs of children and the availability of appropriate help if a marriage hits difficulties, are all of a piece. The spectrum that begins when a couple get together should continue in the event of them going their separate ways if the child's interests are genuinely to come first.

It doesn't happen here because the judiciary, policies and politicians' attitudes are disjointed, out of synch and anachronistic. Too often, when the going gets rough in a cohabitation or marriage, the old-fashioned belief that mother knows best and "owns" her offspring, rules - very definitely OK .

It's time for Britain in the 21st century to junk this damaging matrimonial rag-bag (difficult because the lawyers will resist the honey pot of marital breakdown being prised from their sticky hands). The government at present is engaged in a series of timid little exercises such as the now defunct "early intervention" project. It offered counselling and mediation for warring couples to settle post-separation arrangements over children. Predictions that it would be a total flop proved absolutely correct. Why? Partly because it's based on an assumption that both partners are in a similar emotional place when they start negotiating issues such as how often Johnny and Jane stay over with dad for the night .

In truth, according to Australian research, it takes three years before the unhappy partner (in 70% of cases, the woman) announces that she wishes to end the relationship. During this time, she mourns the loss of the relationship, adjusts her life and makes plans for a different future. Then she announces her intention to her partner. He, often, is utterly bemused at such drastic and irreversible action. That quickly turns to despair, anger and grief - especially because in most cases, he will lose his day-to-day life with his children.

All of which is exacerbated by his wife's apparent indifference . She, of course, has already navigated these choppy waters. Family courts in the UK fail to take this lack of sychronicity into account - as have many projects designed to help with mediation.In Britain, two attitudes cripple the birth of a radically different approach. The first is one that says since individual fathers are some or all of the following (rresponsible, unreliable, lying, violent, tight-fisted lazy bastards) we will not accept a philosophy that assumes both parents are equally capable of caring for a child.

The second concerns the deification of the mother as the "natural" carer and the belief, often prevalent in the courts, that she is always in the right. This is in spite of the fact that research indicates that from birth, positive input from dad, can and does make a significant difference to a child's outcomes.

Child support, contact, access and the promotion of emotional literacy (otherwise known as learning how not to behave like an arse in relationships) have to be linked by the expectation that both parents are equally involved in a child's upbringing, both practical and emotional. If a man (or woman) is abusive and violent then, of course, suitability as a parent is also impaired. It's bonkers to insist, as some courts now do, that contact between a violent parent and children is maintained against their wishes. This month, Australia has attempted to adopt a different approach. It has introduced the most radical reform of family law since the "no fault" divorce in 1975. The legislation driving the change is called the Family Law (Shared Parenting Responsibility) Act. It acknowledges that while a father (usually) may not live with his child full time, he remains a parent .

Australia's goal, via a number of measures, is to keep warring couples out of court if at all possible and away from lawyers. The legal profession, needless to say, is hostile. Now, in a series of meetings in an informal setting, a couple sits with two trained counsellors and two negotiators, working out a resolution with the help of a magistrate. Before, it took up to 15 months to conclude a case and a child might see a non-resident parent damagingly little . In pilots, under the new scheme, resolution comes in a couple of months. This isn't because a miracle is at work. It's because everyone knows that the the assumption is that both adults will behave like grown-ups and share parenting. For those who refuse to accept the terms, one option of last resort is jail.
The rules of the CSA have also been changed. Now, controversially, a full time mother is obliged to find work when the child reaches six. The incomes of both parents is taken into account, as are the expenses a non-resident parent may encounter having his child every other weekend and in the holidays.
The change in the Australian law is only a small part of a multi-million dollar exercise providing more help for couples as lovers and parents. Here, Harriet Harman, minister at the Department for Constitutional Affairs, is looking at ways to improve the business of marriages falling apart.
Ministers are fond of saying that 90% of relationship breakdowns involving children don't end up in court. That's no indicator of a successful solution from the point of view of the child. What that flags up is that many men believe they don't stand a chance in the courts. So, some melt away - but not nearly as many as urban myth would have us believe. According to research well over half of fathers stay in touch with their sons and daughters, no matter what.The Children and Adoption Bill that passed its third reading at the beginning of the month will enable courts to force parents in private law proceedings to undertake parenting classes, to support contact and to punish those who breach contact orders.

The framework is all wrong - punitive and authoritarian. For the majority of parents such an approach wouldn't be necessary if the terms of disengagement caught up with the modern day - and were fair, clear, sustained throughout the system and written into the fabric of society. That's the least children deserve.

www.EqualParenting.org

Tuesday 4 July 2006

The Simon Clayton Story - Beware Judicial Spin!

INTRO - Beware Judicial Spin!

EPC's blog item on June 29th [CLICK HERE] reported the Clayton Landmark Judgment. At the end of that item there's a link so that you can download the Judgment from the main EPC site.

Non-resident parents who have fought through the courts to see their children will be very familiar with just how adept Judges can be at spinning Judgments to make the non-resident parent look like the bad guy! Appeal court judges, as in this case, do that while also bending over backwards to protect their lower court brothers' past decisions in the case - even when those decisions are cleary biased and based on an unbalanced "investigation" of the facts.

EPC knows just how selective Judges can be when they "hand down" their Judgments in an effort to justify their unbalanced decisions.

But there is a heart-rending human story behind every one of these cold-hearted, self-serving Judgments. Usually, as in the case of Simon Clayton, it is a story of a parent simply wanting to remain a meaningful part of their child's life. The media coverage below gives some insight into the human story. Judges leave out the bits that don't support their decisions which so often oppress and discriminate against the excluded parent.

As you read this story, keep in mind that it only came out right in the end for the child and the father because the mother CONSENTED to shared child care.

THE SIMON CLAYTON STORY - MEDIA COVERAGE:


'My daughter is my life. But I fought not just for myself. I had to go on for all the men, like me, who have lost their hope'
(Filed: 02/07/2006)
http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/main.jhtml?xml=/news/2006/07/02/ndad02.xml

A dozen children, dressed in a jumble of white gym kit and plimsolls, are racing along a stretch of freshly mown grass to shrieks of encouragement from their classmates. It is sports day at Llangorse Church in Wales primary school and Simon Clayton is looking for his seven-year-old daughter, Esti.

A digital camera hangs around his neck. He scans the children's faces. "I can't see her anywhere," he says, his blue eyes blinking rapidly. "At times like this, when I can't find her, my immediate thought is, 'Oh God, they've taken her into care. Some judge has come along and just taken her away'."

Simon Clayton: 'These courts have to be scrutinised'

The fear of losing Esti lurks constantly in her father's mind. For the past three years, Mr Clayton, 44, has been engaged in a legal battle to gain access to his child. It has cost him his job, his lifestyle and more than £20,000. He is, he says, one of countless men caught up in the bureaucracy and extraordinary secrecy of the family court system, which conducts all custody hearings behind closed doors. Until a successful appeal by Mr Clayton, last week, he was forbidden by a High Court injunction from disclosing any details of the case, or even discussing his daughter's care in public.

It is a landmark ruling, achieved only through Mr Clayton's terrier-like determination. "I was fighting not just for myself," he says, "but for all parents denied access to their child. Anything that obstructs reasonable access should be as socially unacceptable as drink-driving."

Little wonder then, that the small, but memorable goalposts in a child's life that other parents can sometimes take for granted - sports days, birthdays, the loss of a first tooth - are, to Mr Clayton, fragile. "I am pleased about the Court of Appeal decision - not elated, because I've been living with this for so long, but it's a victory and it's very satisfying," he says, in his first newspaper interview since the ruling.

Although the law has not been changed by the court action, the ruling means that judges will now consider long-term anonymity orders - Mr Clayton's was imposed until Esti reached 18 - more cautiously. The judgment will have an effect not only on parental-contact disputes, but also on cases involving children taken into care or adoption decisions. In each case, the balance between an entitlement to anonymity and the right to freedom of expression will have to be weighed.

A corner of the blanket of secrecy, says Mr Clayton, has thus been lifted. "There's got to be much more openness about what goes on in the family courts. These courts can, and frequently do, permanently remove children from their parents and regularly send people to jail. Yet their decisions and proceedings take place behind completely sealed doors and receive virtually no coverage in the media. These courts have to be scrutinised, so that people know what's going on, so that people can see the evidence against them."

Mr Clayton has long been determined that he should be able to talk freely about his case, both to highlight the inner workings of the family justice system and to promote the concept of "shared care"- whereby children spend equal amounts of time with each parent. His doggedness is evident: even after a hard-won court battle for shared access of his daughter in 2005, he felt the injustice of family court secrecy so strongly that he kept on fighting for the right to talk about his case.

He is not alone in calling for greater openness. Earlier this year, Harriet Harman, the Minister for Constitutional Affairs, announced a consultation on opening up the family courts to increased scrutiny. On Thursday, Lord Justice Wall, a senior Court of Appeal judge, suggested that the media should be admitted to proceedings to shake off "the canard of secret justice".

Such secrecy has led to a lack of confidence in the family courts and an increasing sense that the system has something to hide, fuelled by pressure groups such as Fathers4Justice and Families Need Fathers. In a criminal court, a defendant can be convicted only if their guilt is beyond reasonable doubt. A family court takes its decisions - sometimes involving the removal of a child from parental care - on a balance of probabilities, and few judges allow parents to call experts in their defence. [emphasis added by EPC]

"There came a stage when, every time I saw Esti, I was asking myself, 'Is this the last time I will see my child?' " says Mr Clayton. "Society believes that a man should not show his emotions, that a man does not have that natural bond with his child that a woman possesses. I find that insulting. Esti is my life. I had to keep on fighting for all the men like me, men who have lost their hope."

Back at the school sports day, Esti has been found, sitting cross-legged on the grass, chatting happily with friends. She spots her father and runs up to him, hugging his legs. "There's a dads' race soon," she says, prompting a theatrical groan from Mr Clayton. She giggles. For a child who has been at the centre of a protracted custody battle, Esti is remarkably well-adjusted and cheerful.

"The absurd thing is that it was just an ordinary little case," says Mr Clayton, after we have driven back to his grey-stone farmhouse set against the lush hills and valleys of the Herefordshire countryside, just outside Hay-on-Wye. "My ex-wife and I separated in 2000 and had already worked out an arrangement whereby Esti spent alternate weeks with each of us [Mr Clayton's Polish-born former wife, Aneta, whom he married in 1998, lives a short drive away in Brecon, mid-Wales]. Then my wife, for no real reason, ended up getting a solicitor involved. He sent me a letter, and once you've started family court proceedings, that's it, you end up in Mr Kafka's world. It's like throwing petrol on the fire. Suddenly, this case develops and the lawyers are egging you on to make more money from you and prolong it as long as possible."

The case dragged on. Mr Clayton, who had formerly been a bookseller in Hay-on-Wye after several years as a charter pilot, gave up his job to concentrate on mounting his own legal defence. The paperwork, he says, was "horrific". "I had to write out so many statements that my handwriting became completely illegible. I was under a lot of stress. I wasn't sleeping, my lips were bleeding with stress. My personality changed, because you're stuck in this adversarial system. I became somebody I liked less because I was having to fight, having to get unpleasant because people were being unpleasant to me."

By April 2003, Mr Clayton felt he could take the pressure no longer. During a routine visit from Esti, days before a custody hearing, he took his daughter "on holiday". They drove in a camper van to Portugal where, beset by engine trouble, they came to a halt and spent several days on the beach. Back home, their disappearance had sparked a police inquiry. "They said I abducted her," he says. "It was blown out of proportion. We had been on several trips abroad before then and there wasn't anything wrong with it. Esti was well used to it."

Did she miss her mother? "If she was upset, I diverted her attention, I took her emotions in another direction," he says blithely. Six weeks later, Mr Clayton was recognised by a passerby and arrested. He spent 40 days in a Portuguese jail before being extradited to Britain and serving a further four-and-a-half months. "It wasn't my lowest point. That was in the run-up: that uncertainty, where you have no idea of what you're meant to do.

"At least when you're in jail you've got no legal letters coming through the door. You also have people to talk to who can understand how evil the state could be. Most of my fellow inmates were very supportive," he says, pausing as he runs his fingers through greying hair. "I don't think a mother would have been treated like that. It broke my heart."

On his release, in December 2003, Mr Clayton faced a further custody battle to gain access to his daughter. It did not come to court until April 2004, when he was finally allowed to see Esti again. But the shared access agreed upon by the couple still needed official court approval. By July 2005, the status quo was formalised. Esti now spends alternate weeks with each parent and the couple share their tax credits. Relations between the two are cordial and, at Esti's instigation, they occasionally meet up for family meals.

Although the arrangement sounds straightforward, it is rare in British courts, which favour the mother as prime carer. "That attitude is retrograde," says Mr Clayton. "I think there should be a presumption of shared care in custody battles. I am an utterly devoted parent. I don't think you can build up a proper relationship if you're only allowed to see your child every other weekend. Our relationship is constantly growing and you develop this fundamental, unconditional love. She's an incredibly beguiling, spiritful child with a great wit."
So beguiling, in fact, that she did manage to persuade her father to run in the "dads' race". We watched as Mr Clayton lined up alongside all the other fathers. A teacher blew the starting whistle and he sprinted for all he's worth, crossing the finish line with a broad grin on his face. He didn't win or even earn a place. For Simon Clayton, simply taking part was prize enough.

My fight for every father
By TESSA CUNNINGHAM, Daily Mail 08:28am 4th July 2006
http://www.dailymail.co.uk/pages/live/femail/article.html?in_article_id=393926&in_page_id=1879

Together after the trauma: Simon Clayton with daughter Esti

Femail news

It cost his home, his job and his freedom. But this week Simon won the right to see his daughter AND a £20,000 battle to reveal the details of the case. Now, other parents can lift the secrecy that too often mars family courts:

[But not while their cases are ongoing - i.e. when it really matters - and courts continue to be free to make gag orders that extend long after the case has closed - EPC COMMENT]

Exchanging proud glances as they cheer daughter Esti on at her school sports day, Aneta and Simon Clayton look like any other happy couple. As Esti reaches the finishing line, Simon whoops for joy and Aneta runs to hug their daughter. Esti, seven, looks the picture of contentment.
Indeed, seeing the happy family it's hard to believe these devoted parents are actually divorced. It's even harder to believe that just three years ago they were embroiled in a custody battle so vicious it hit the headlines when Simon, driven to breaking point by their bitter feud, fled abroad with Esti. Police launched an international manhunt and overnight the couple's domestic tragedy was being played out in the newspapers and on television. Weeping Aneta gave a string of interviews, begging for Esti's safe return. Police blanketed European holiday spots with 'Wanted' posters. Holidaymakers were urged to report sightings.

Finally, after six nailbiting weeks, Simon was arrested at gun-point in Portugal. After two months in a squalid Faro prison, he was extradited to Britain to stand trial. He pleaded guilty to child abduction and was jailed for nine months. By that stage the warring couple couldn't even agree on the time of day.

One would have thought their relationship would be completely unsalvageable. Far from it. They now have a model divorce. And their extraordinary agreement over Esti could serve as a template for other divorced parents. Until now, family court proceedings have always taken place behind closed doors. But after winning a landmark ruling in the High Court last week, both Simon, 44, and Aneta, 32, can talk about their ground-breaking arrangements.

The judgment will have far-reaching effects and now mothers and fathers whose children are taken away from them - be it by ex-partners or social services - will be able to ask for media coverage of their plight. 'Ours was just an ordinary little case at the outset,' says Simon. 'But it got totally out of control once lawyers got involved. My story should be a warning to every parent. I'm elated I can now expose the hell our family suffered. I had to keep on fighting for all the men like me, men who have lost their hope.'

He believes that by putting what were effectively secret hearings into the open, injustices can be exposed or prevented. Not only do the Claytons share every aspect of Esti's care equally, the child even has her own bill of rights - of which more later. She's encouraged to love both parents equally while they promise only to look for the good in each other. A tall order for most parents - let alone for this couple.

Parent charter

After three years of hell, it's a charter made in heaven - but it wasn't forged without sacrifices. 'I lost my home and my job and ran up legal bills of more than £20,000,' says Simon. 'It's affected every aspect of my life. I'd love to remarry and have more children, but while this was going on, how could I commit?'

Simon was working as a pilot when he met Aneta, who now lives in Brecon with her new partner Terry, during a stopover in Warsaw in May 1997. 'She was working in the bookshop of the hotel and we got talking,' he says. 'We bonded very quickly. She was pretty and vivacious with a stunning figure and beautiful long brown hair. We seemed to have a lot in common. We both love reading and simple pleasures such as walks in the country.'

Simon returned to his cottage outside Hay-on-Wye. When Aneta followed for a holiday shortly afterwards, their romance rapidly intensified. 'With hindsight it was all too fast but, as Aneta didn't have a visa to stay in Britain, the pressure was on,' says Simon. 'We married in December 1997 and within three months Aneta was pregnant. 'It was a happy accident. Women admit their body clocks are ticking. Well, men's can too. I've always wanted children. I had an idyllic childhood in North Wales, where my father was an architect and my mother a housewife.'
Aneta had enjoyed a traditional Roman Catholic childhood in a small Polish town - her father was a policeman and her mother also a housewife - and was delighted to be a mum. Esti was born on December 28, 1998. 'Her birth blew me away,' Simon says. 'As a pilot I had enjoyed an enchanted life. I travelled the globe and even spent a year as a private pilot for the rock group Iron Maiden. But nothing compared to the exhilaration of being a dad. I knew I'd been given the greatest gift — and the most important job on earth.'

Determined to spend time with his new family, Simon quit his job. The couple set up a bookshop in Hay-on-Wye so they could spend quality time with Esti. 'We did everything equally. I changed at least as many nappies as Aneta,' Simon says.

Unravelling marriage

But, while they were united in adoring their baby, their relationship quickly unravelled. Struggling with the language and isolated in their country cottage, Aneta felt lonely and bored. Soon they were rowing constantly.

In April 2000, when Esti was just 16 months old, they separated, divorcing two years later. At first things were amicable. Simon stayed in the marital home so he could maintain the business. Aneta and Esti moved into a rented home nearby. They agreed to share childcare.

'We were devastated that our marriage was over. The last thing we wanted was for Esti to come from a broken home,' says Simon. 'But despite all the sadness, I was convinced we could stay friends. We hadn't had affairs. We hadn't been violent. We had simply fallen out of love.

'I assumed we would have a civilised divorce and organise childcare as we'd always done - equally. We were such good friends I even helped Aneta pack and drove her to her new home.'
To help arrange their divorce both hired lawyers - a decision that within months was to turn their relationship into raging warfare.

'The second you hire lawyers you throw petrol on the problem,' says Simon, who not surprisingly now campaigns for fathers' rights . 'Little niggles get magnified. Solicitors want to make money - it's in their interests to keep the dispute going.

'We would have silly tit-for-tat rows. If I was late to pick Esti up one day, Aneta might punish me by being late the next time, but left to our own devices we could have worked that out. Instead I'd receive an insensitive, rude letter from her solicitor reprimanding me. Then my lawyer would send her one. I don't blame Aneta and I know she doesn't blame me. We were pawns.

'But the toll on my health was terrible. Every morning I'd feel sick to the stomach when the post arrived - wondering what horror I'd find next.'

Despite all their problems, Esti was still sharing half her time with each parent. However, as the couple couldn't agree the finer details, their lawyers advised a court hearing. And it was then that the situation rapidly deteriorated. Aneta was advised to seek sole custody of Esti, allowing Simon regular contact. She was told this was standard procedure for mothers.

'The bottom fell out of my world,' says Simon. 'Esti was three-and-a-half. All her life we had shared her care equally. She had two bedrooms, two sets of clothes and two lots of toys. She had the best of both worlds. At my home she played with her ferret, Fifi. At Aneta's she played with Barbie dolls.

'But my lawyer told me that any decision would be entirely down to the judge. Our little girl's future was out of our hands. Anything could happen.

'From that moment I never slept properly. Every time I saw Esti I wondered if it would be the last happy time we'd enjoy. It was a living hell. I kept begging Aneta to sort things out between us but she wouldn't listen.'

Eventually, Aneta became so tired of Simon's anguished letters that her lawyer advised her to cut off all communication. And then, on April 9, 2003 - just a week before a final court hearing to decide Esti's future - Simon made his fateful decision.

Vanished

He booked a one-way ferry ticket from Portsmouth to Caen, in France, and vanished with Esti, then four.

When Aneta arrived three days later to pick Esti up, she found the house deserted and a note from Simon saying he had gone on holiday for three weeks to spend some quality time with their daughter. She was distraught.

'I feel very guilty about it now,' admits Simon. 'It was a moment of madness. But I never intended to alarm Aneta and I certainly wasn't kidnapping Esti. I just wanted to get away with her and clear the air.

'I love travelling. In the past, I'd taken Esti backpacking around America and North Africa, but relations between Aneta and me had deteriorated so badly, I knew it would be utterly impossible to agree holiday dates without months of lawyers' letters.

'Aneta knew I'd been planning a holiday in Europe. She also knew I only ever booked one-way ferry tickets. It never occurred to me she'd imagine I had abducted our daughter.'
That wasn't how Aneta saw it. She appeared on TV, begging the public to help return her daughter. 'If you know where she is, please contact me. Esti's missing me. It's time for her to come back home,' she sobbed.

Driving through France, Spain and Portugal in his VW camper van, Simon claims he was oblivious to the distress he was causing Aneta, or the manhunt back home. But surely he must have known how distressed the child's mother would have been. Moreover, having said he'd be gone three weeks, he remained on the Continent for twice that long. Who knows if he would ever have come home, had he not been spotted by a British holidaymaker in a tiny fishing village in the Algarve.

Esti was paddling in the sea when police pounced. 'A policeman smashed me to the ground and stuck a gun in my head,' says Simon. 'It was like something out of Miami Vice. When he told me, in broken English, that I was being arrested for kidnap, I was in shock.'

Simon was bundled into a police car. Esti, still in her wet bathing suit, followed in another car. At the police station Simon was allowed a final goodbye before Esti was whisked off to spend the night with a social worker before being reunited with Aneta. Simon wasn't to see his daughter for 12 months.

'Standing in the police station, saying goodbye, I was determined not to scare Esti,' says Simon. 'I cuddled her and brushed her hair - it was still matted from the sea.

'For the only time in her life I lied to her. I said that I was ill and needed to go to hospital and that she would be spending the night with a kind lady. Her lower lip wobbled but she tried to be brave for my sake. I thought my heart was going to break.'

Simon spent the next two months in a cell at Faro jail. 'The conditions were like a scene from Midnight Express - three of us were banged up for 20 hours a day in a cell barely two metres each way. Our toilet was a bucket in the corner.

'There was no fan and the heat reached 50 degrees. I thought I was going to die. I'd never even had a parking ticket. I was in a hellhole, all because I loved my daughter.'

Devastated by the distress he'd caused Aneta, Simon sent her a letter of apology. But she was so angry, she didn't even respond. Extradited to England after two months, Simon pleaded guilty to child abduction and was sentenced to nine months in jail. Taking into account the time he'd served in Portugal and on remand it meant spending another two months in prison.

'I kept thinking I'd wake up and find it was all a dream,' he says. 'I could have beaten someone half to death and had a lighter sentence. But I was advised to plead guilty to save the stress of a full-blown court case which might have involved Esti being called as a witness.

'In jail, conditions were utterly terrifying. The queue for methadone - a heroin replacement for addicts - was longer than the lunch queue. I couldn't sleep at night for the howls of inmates half-crazed as they went cold turkey.

'I blocked my mind to Esti. I didn't have a single photo of her in my cell. I knew if I thought about her, I'd go to pieces. It was a living bereavement.'

Homeless and jobless

Simon was finally released on December 1, 2003. He was homeless, jobless and with a prison record. Now he faced a further custody battle to gain access to Esti.

Finally, in April 2004 - a year after last seeing her - he was allowed a few hours with her. But he was banned from being alone with her in case he tried to abduct her.

'Esti had grown three inches. I'd missed her fifth birthday and Christmas so I'd brought her loads of presents - a doll's house and set of farm animals,' he recalls. 'She was really shy at first. I started talking about her pets and gradually she warmed.'

But Simon was still determined to fight for shared care. His hopes seemed slim, but in July 2005, Simon and Aneta found themselves at the High Court in Cardiff for a final hearing.

Against all the odds, over two days the couple thrashed out an agreement.
'It was actually Aneta's barrister, Anthony Kirk QC, who suggested it,' Simon says. 'Until then we'd been at loggerheads. But he helped us draw up an agreement which put Esti first and acknowledged that we both loved her and both agreed it was in her best interests to have a mum and a dad in her life.

[Simon was extremely lucky that (a) mother agreed to this and that (b) this barrister was involved. IT IS VITAL TO REALIZE THAT had Aneta decided to fight shared care there is not a snowball's chance in hell that the court would have ordered it. Simon would have been lucky to have been awarded alternate weekend contact and half the holidays! - EPC COMMENT]


'For the first time, Aneta and I could see we were on the same side - working for our beloved daughter. It was a minor miracle.'

'Bill of Rights'

The couple also agreed a special 'Bill of Rights' for Esti. She's encouraged to love both parents equally and both parents promise not to use her as a pawn in any disagreements.

'I couldn't believe we'd done it,' says Simon. 'Afterwards Aneta and I even had a meal together. The bitterness evaporated. It's been a year now and our arrangement works like a dream. Esti has separate bedrooms and full sets of clothes at both houses, which are 23 miles apart. She spends one week at my house, one at Aneta's.

'We are flexible. My father died a few weeks ago from a heart condition. Aneta willingly agreed Esti could come to his funeral although it was during "her" time.

'Esti has two very different worlds. At my home she goes riding and for long walks. I don't have a TV so we read a lot. At Aneta's she enjoys shopping and catching up on the soaps.

'Despite our terrible history, Esti is remarkably unaffected. She's self-confident and outgoing with a wicked sense of humour. Most of all, she feels deeply loved.

'Aneta and I talk regularly. When Esti has a doctor's appointment we go together. My only anger is with lawyers. Countless parents - usually fathers - suffer as I have. But our case shows there can be a better way.' [But only if the mother agrees! EPC COMMENT]


Estranged father's victory over family court blanket of secrecy

By Joshua Rozenberg, Legal Editor(Filed: 28/06/2006)
http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/main.jhtml?xml=/news/2006/06/28/nfam428.xml

A small corner of the blanket of secrecy covering family cases was lifted yesterday when the Court of Appeal allowed an estranged father to discuss a ruling involving his daughter.
The outcome was a victory for Simon Clayton, from Hay-on-Wye, Herefordshire, who will be allowed to put pictures of his seven-year-old daughter, Esti, on his website and discuss the agreement he had reached with her mother for sharing their daughter's care.

However, the court banned him from involving Esti in a film he wanted to make about how he had abducted her to Portugal in 2003. Three appeal judges decided that, on matters affecting her welfare, the child's right to respect for her private life under Article 8 of the Human Rights Convention outweighed her father's right to freedom of expression under Article 10.

In an unusual move, Sir Mark Potter, who presided over the appeal, issued a press release saying that he and his fellow judges regarded their decision "as a small step towards greater transparency and rebutting the slur inherent in the charge that the family courts administer 'secret' justice".

Mr Clayton, who campaigns for fathers' rights in the family courts, said of the ruling: "Today the Court of Appeal has allowed me to speak freely."

He added: "I see the judgment as a big step forward. Until today I was not allowed to publish this information." Mr Clayton and his wife, Aneta, married in 1997 and separated in 2000, sharing the care of their daughter.

But when Mrs Clayton began court proceedings for contact and residence orders, her husband abducted Esti, living in a camper van in Portugal for five and a half weeks until he was arrested. He pleaded guilty to child abduction and spent six months in prison.

A BBC documentary about his case, Simon Says, was broadcast in January 2004. Three months later, Mr Clayton was allowed renewed contact with his daughter.

Mrs Clayton took out an injunction when she heard that her estranged husband was intending to discuss the case and revisit Portugal to make a film about their daughter's experiences.
Sir Mark said the practical effect of allowing the appeal would be that every court would have to justify continuing an order for anonymity after concluding a case. But he said this did not mean parents were free to "draw their children into an ongoing public debate about their welfare or other wider issues".