“How do you know?”
“I was doing handies, mate. Hand jobs.”
“Did she make you do that whilst you were pregnant?”
“She didn’t make me do it.”
“How did Maude feel about the pregnancy?”
Ronnie shrugged.
“Bad for business?”
She nodded.
“Did she ask you to get an abortion?”
The nervous urge to laugh was gone. Ronnie nodded.
“Was she physically abusive?”
“She would say it was self-defense.”
“She hit you?”
Ronnie nodded. “We beat each other regularly. It wasn’t a one-sided situation. We went at it. Often it was foreplay.”
“Does she still manage working girls?”
“No.”
“Is she still selling drugs?”
“No. She tattoos tourists.”
“Was the fight you had ten years ago your last?”
This woman was sharp. Ronnie smiled. “Next question.”
The lawyer looked up from her legal pad, over her reading glasses, to study Ronnie. Awkward silence. Eventually the woman leaned back and sighed. “This isn’t going to work. No judge will give you custody if you’re beating this child’s mother.”
Ronnie flushed, angry. She scratched the cast. “I think you misunderstood.” Her wrist hurt. “Can I call someone?”
The woman blinked, surprised. “Sure. You can step outside. I’ll wait.”
Ronnie pulled out her phone and dialed her dad.
“Do you want me to step outside?” the lawyer asked.
She shook her head as the phone rang on her dad’s end. He could fix this. He was at work, but he answered.
“Hiya Brum.”
“Hiya. I’m here in Mareeba with the lawyer.”
“What’s up?”
“It isn’t going well.”
