Stickman Readers' Submissions December 2nd, 2011

Told You So 14: After The Implosion, The Fallout

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Forgive me for not recapping on the story so far, but episode 13 was submitted only a couple of days ago. My title may also be technically inaccurate – can you get ‘fallout’ from an implosion, or only from an explosion? No matter,
you know what I mean.

Saturday 26 November was, no doubt, a difficult day for my Filipina estranged wife. It was a day she brought on herself by her behaviour – lies, deceit and manipulation. Whilst I had been content to cut my losses and get the divorce
sorted out so I could move on, when I became aware of the involvement of the vulnerable child I was quite happy to share information. This led to the new boyfriend declaring her ‘persona non grata’ and removing her from his house.

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Never mind, at least she still had her job in the nursing home (not great, but pulling in about GBP1,100 a month net) and she had the option of staying in a ‘staff’ room there. And, of course, she had a number of valuable possessions
including the new laptop, camera, phone etc., and a bank balance of nearly GBP5,000 so she wasn’t so badly off.

To escape the unending (but always unanswered) phone calls from her I unplugged my land-line, switched off my mobile, and repaired to the nearby cricket club. I am an enthusiastic ‘social’ (i.e. drinking) member and this is
an oasis of calm with good company, superb food and excellent beer. Even better is that next year’s annual membership fee will be discounted from this year’s GBP15 because now I’m single.

After a few (or more properly a few too many) pints of one of Wales’ finest products (Rev James real ale by Brains Brewery, Cardiff) served straight from the barrel and some good conversation, I made my unsteady but happy way home
and went to bed at about 21:30 to sleep the sleep of the just and inebriated. ‘Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof’.

At about 22:15 my doorbell rang – and rang and rang. ‘Who on earth can be calling at this time of night?’ I asked myself, although not quite in those terms. It was, of course, the Filipina. I debated with myself whether
to answer the door or not but I couldn’t see any point. I had nothing to say to her, I wasn’t interested in anything she had to say to me, and I certainly didn’t want to enter into a physical altercation. After a few minutes
she went away.

I woke early the next morning (Sunday 27 November), something to do with the calories in the beer and the need to take a leak. The phone started ringing at 05:43 so I unplugged it again and went about the morning routine of coffee and a cigarette.

At 06:40 the doorbell rang again. And again at 07:30. I had the same self-debate and again I didn’t answer. I will confess that even though I had a door-chain on I had visions of Filipina forcing her way into the house and the scene
that might ensue. For those readers who may be aficionados of the ‘horror movie’ genre but haven’t yet experienced a SEA woman in full ‘screaming banshee’ mode, I have to tell you ‘you ain’t seen
nothing yet’. Trust me on this.

At 08:18 that morning I had what I believe may be my last communication with my Filipina estranged wife except for formal documents through the divorce court. I sent her a text (SMS) message: ‘Please do not contact me again’.
Finished, job done.

One of the reasons I submit this series of submissions is that it’s a bit unusual because while ‘my’ Filipina was living with her new boyfriend I knew exactly what she was doing and perhaps it provides an insight beyond
the more normal ‘she told me this, I said that, and I never heard from her again’. And this, dear reader, is a ‘good’ Filipina ‘lady’.

At 09:10 on Sunday 27 November I received a phone call from boyfriend’s ex-partner. She was warning me that Filipina may have ‘flipped’ (excuse the unintended pun) and may come to my house. ‘Too late’ I
told her and recounted what had occurred earlier.

This is the recent background to events.

On Saturday 26 November, having printed off the ‘Told You So’ submissions she gave them to the boyfriend to read (having summarised them to him previously). He had disbelief, then acceptance, then tears. He is, she tells me,
a very loyal and trusting guy but demands the same in return). She also gave him the ‘stickman’ website address so he could read more (and more independent) stuff if he chose.

His reaction? He thanked the ex-partner, he asked her to pass on his thanks to me, and (indirectly) he thanked Stick!

He went further. He spoke to the manager of the nursing home (he’s worked there for many years) and explained exactly what had happened. He told her the real story of the assault conviction (the knife attack) rather than the ‘sanitised’
version she’d told them. The result was her instant dismissal.

Just after 08:00 on Sunday morning the ex-partner went into the kitchen in her house to find Filipina there (the back door was unlocked as it often is in this very rural community). She wanted to speak to the boyfriend and using the ‘injured
little girl’ voice pleaded for him to take her back. ‘Why have you taken my job from me – even (my name) didn’t do that’.

She refused to leave the house and the police (forewarned) were called. They gave her the option of leaving or being arrested to prevent a breach of the peace. Always reasonable (this is a rural area) they gave her a ride in the police car
to the nearby (very) small town with a couple of bags of her possessions so she could catch a bus or train or whatever (not many travel options in a small town in West Wales on a Sunday).

And that’s the last I heard of her.

I have to admit that this has caused me some introspection. This is not how I wanted or anticipated our marriage would end up. If I had not had deep feelings for her I would not have married her. But I genuinely believe that I gave her every
chance, every warning, and did my best to make the marriage work. She was accepted and welcomed by the family – she has step-granddaughters. She had the opportunity for a good life here. She chose not to take it.

Where is she now? I have no idea. There is a Filipina community locally, maybe she’s staying with one of them. I know she has some extended family members in London, perhaps she’ll go there. Maybe she’ll go ‘underground’
in the illegal Filipina community. She has the stamp in her passport which gives her unlimited right to stay and work in the UK unless anyone examines the facts closely (and knowing UKBA, they won’t). But she’s on the police and
Immigration computers.

She has portrayed no ambition to go back to the Philippines, although she could have a comfortable life there. Her mother has a house (a small farm with rice fields, etc.) and a teacher’s pension. Her adult son’s father is a
senior police officer from an influential family and there is money there. Poor (in local terms) they are not. Her brother and his family live in California and seem to be doing just fine.

‘My’ Filipina is now an insignificant part of my life history and ranks alongside the council tax and utility bills. I have to get the divorce papers sorted out and this will be a little more difficult (but not insurmountable)
if I don’t know where she’s living.

Just as an aside, back in the cricket club last night for some refreshment and enlightened conversation I got talking to a guy with a friend who has a Thai ‘wife’. He’s having problems, sending money, etc. I gave him
the ‘Stickman’ website address. I expect no thanks or recognition but I wouldn’t be surprised to receive a free beer or two in the future…

Stickman's thoughts:

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ere's hoping this is the final part of this excellent story. But if it is not, we all expect a full update!

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