by Tess Reidy
Amy* is a mum of two. Her eldest is ten; the youngest is eight years younger. The relationship with her first child’s father ended years ago. Although it was at times acrimonious, they have shared contact fairly successfully. It has altered over time, she says, depending on the child’s age and needs. Overnight stays stopped when the child began preferring to sleep at home. Their wishes were prioritised, and both parents agreed. Now the child spends alternate weekends with the dad, is thriving at school, plays sports to a high level and has a solid family network around them. Amy says that even at her most frustrated, she did not try to cut the father out, and the courts were never involved.
The situation with her younger child’s father could not be more different. Amy became pregnant unexpectedly after dating a man she had known only a few months. She alleges he is a drug addict, a stalker, a sex addict and a domestic abuser. The most frightening part, she says, is that he does not present this way. With her child still so small, she feels tied to a man she considers dangerous. The father disputes these allegations.
Stories like this are common in the family courts and deserve scrutiny, not least because they often reveal the complex realities behind parental disputes. On the one hand, you have a mother seeming to be protecting her family. On the other you have a father wanting a relationship with their child and being prevented from doing so.
Today we’re in court to decide what happens next. The parents sit on opposite sides of the blue curtain. Amy is represented by a barrister, the father is representing himself, and the guardian’s solicitor sits in the middle. The hearing gets off to a staggered start: Amy’s solicitor has failed to file a position statement on time. There are various discussions over why this did not happen and the delay it may cause. The judge says this is not acceptable, and the court is in a difficult position. Should the court be adjourned and come back another time? That does not help anyone, he concludes. The mother’s barrister apologises. In the end, the judge notes that it would have moved matters along, but the case proceeds regardless.
A psychologist’s report recommends family therapy. Both parents have agreed in principle. Six hour-long sessions are suggested, with costs split. But Amy disputes the proposed therapist, saying they are not suitable. Good family therapists are hard to come by and various different cities and towns are mentioned in the court with potential options available. It needs to be fairly local too, so that all parties can easily attend. Fortunately, in this instance, the up to £300 cost per session is not a sticking point between the parents.
Meanwhile, the father currently sees the child under supervision at a contact centre every other Saturday. Ten sessions were planned, but only five have taken place, largely due to illness and holidays. Amy wants contact moved to a weekday to avoid disrupting her older child’s routine. The father says he works full-time and cannot attend midweek. Amy also says she’s not currently comfortable handing the child over directly to the father, so she leaves once the child is settled.
One of the sticking points is alcohol. Amy wants the father to avoid drinking for 24 hours before contact. The judge notes his history of alcohol consumption but says there is no evidence he is drinking now and that he reports being abstinent. When asked when she last saw him under the influence, Amy cannot give a clear answer. “Then this is not a current concern,” the judge says, and moves the case on.
There is no final order today. Proceedings remain live, meaning either parent can return to court without issuing a fresh application, a small concession to avoid further delay.
For now, only small steps have been made. Family therapy is likely to begin, but contact arrangements stay as they are. And, as the judge reminds everyone, the child is still very young. The relationship with the father is in its earliest stages.
Among the paperwork and procedural back-and-forth, the guardian’s account provides the only real glimpse of the child at the centre of all this. During a recent observation, the child had just woken from a nap and was unsettled with the father, struggling visibly, “entirely appropriate”, the guardian notes, given that they do not know him. It is a moving snapshot of the young child in the middle of all this. The Guardian adds that there is still “a long way to go for the child to be comfortable with him,” and there is no clear sense of how long that might take.
To the child, he is still a stranger. And to the mother, a dangerous one.
Posted on 4th December 2025