I am writing this while events are still fresh in my mind. If left, memories have a habit of going stale very quickly.

My partner and I were summoned to attend the Melbourne Magistrates Court last Friday, but before I explain the reason why, you need to first hear of the strange and bewildering tale that has paved the trail to the judge.

I live in an old art deco apartment block (one of three) in Brighton. It's a beautiful place, but run down.

We bought the property in September 2000, a year later the apartment below us was sold and six months after that the front double story unit was sold, all of us were from similar backgrounds and age, and one would think perfectly suited to communal living.

The Body Corporate is self-managed and so if repairs or maintenance is required, all three owners attend a Body Corporate meeting and discuss the matter, then quotes are sought and each contributes a fee according to their lot liability.

For the first two years this system worked (sort of) smoothly, we were able to carry out much needed repairs to the roof, plumbing and electricity, which for the past seventy years had all but been ignored. Rising damp, (though not serious) had also crept into the lower walls due to contact with the garden bed and water, and it was at this point that relations with our downstairs neighbor soured dramatically.

Our front neighbor was a young and quiet researcher. Her field is Third World geography, specialising in female migrant workers in Asia. An admirable and humanitarian vocation. Due to the stresses caused by our downstairs neighbor and the Body Corporate, she left and tenanted out her property. She now lives in country Victoria.

Below us resides a person I would consider as mad, bad and dangerous to know. He is a "trolley dolly" with a major airline company and says " he is away seven months of the year" but his time at home more than makes up for the time he is overseas.

Alarm bells started to ring when he said he had "big plans" for the property. Body Corporate meetings were dominated by him and "what we should do." When things did not go his way he refused to contribute to the maintenance of the property. This meant the huge sprawling garden, common property and the planned works for the building came to a standstill. All attempts by ourselves and our front neighbor to mediate with him using an independent Government body were ignored.

Just when we thought things couldn't get any worse, they did. The noise and midweek parties till the early hours were becoming more frequent. In the past we had "tolerated" these little soirée's but toleration became intolerable. An obvious provocation for us and the new tenants. I was pushed to the limit just bare of using physical violence. The ape inside me was awake and soon to take full possession, hooping and hollering over the rooftops. But my partner is a great leveler and so using the law was our only approach. The Police were called twice in a fortnight and our local council issued him with a warning of compliance. This seemed to do the trick, but as a new period of peace came to the block another form of provocation reared it's ugly head.

Before I go any further in this very UN-Christmas entry I first need to describe the type of personality we are dealing with.

Our neighbour's occupation as an international air steward would probably be responsible for a lifestyle that one would portray as erratic. He has a mania that is fueled by irregular sleep, excessive alcohol and chronic chain smoking plus a form of hedonism that requires an instant form of gratification. The times when we did communicate verbally with him were usually thrashed out by trying to translate his meaningless riddle of sentences that went in circles like a dog chasing it's own tail. Getting any real truth of what was really said by our downstairs neighbour had to be ruled out.

At 5pm one sultry afternoon three weeks ago I heard three loud slow knocks at the door; the unmistakable greeting of the Police. Two officers of the law (male and female) issued my partner and I intervention orders for stalking our neighbor! Incredulously we looked at each other in disbelief and asked the cops on what grounds this claim was based on, and that defending this accusation would be a waste of our time. Of course the cops official response was that they were only messengers of the court.

Due to the nature of the claim it was in our best interests to defend it, so we went about the expensive matter of engaging a reputable barrister. We only had a week to prepare our statement, so each night we were at each others throats remembering crucial times and dates of each encounter with a person I will now refer to as "P".

It pissed down with rain on the day of our court appearance. As a calming measure we decided on a hearty breakfast at a nearby cafe and bar usually frequented by boozy and burnt-out Barristers. I felt calm, though longing for the day to be over.

The Magistrates Court is a huge 1980's monstrosity. Tinted grey glass with a baby poo colour scheme. Security consisted of the usual full body scan plus personal items. Our Barrister decided that the best line of attack would be to take out an intervention order against "P" just prior to going into court. It would then be heard at the one sitting. So at 9am we lodged the complaint with the Registrar. The anxiety increased with each passing minute due to the case being heard at 10am and we still had not conferred with our Barrister yet. By 9:30 the order was complete and we rushed to the 6th floor to meet with Graham, our Barrister. Graham was a short and quiet man in his sixties and a well-known face at the Melbourne Magistrates Court. Both of our statements had been thoroughly analysed by him, and God knows, we had already spent five days screaming at each other getting them right !

We were approached by a tall and shabbily dressed young lawyer who said he was representing "P". Due to having a cross intervention order at the last moment he wanted to have a "chat". Both Barristers went off and talked while we waited. When Graham returned we all went into court and sat for our case to be heard. The Judge made it clear it "wasn't a nice day" due to the vigil going on across the road for Nguyen who was to be hanged in Singapore that morning for drug trafficking. Our Barrister approached the bench and asked that the cases be deferred while we all tried to settle the matter out of court. We all went to our own separate conference rooms provided by the court that were both claustrophobic and inappropriate. "P's" lawyer let it be known to us that "P's" case was not very strong. I meanwhile needed to go to the "Gents" badly, and on the way back I stormed into "P's" conference cubicle by mistake witnessing his pale and startled face. I made my apologies and fled.

After all the to-ing and fro-ing between lawyers we came to a "mutual undertaking" that both parties would not approach or talk to each other, but I made it clear under no circumstances was "P" to be made uncontactable in writing. This would have to be agreed to, otherwise "no deal". This, of course was like pulling a tooth, and "P" would have wanted to get away with not paying any Body Corporate service fees, but I stressed it would be "back to court" if this was not agreed to. He relented and signed his documents and then stormed out with his new red-head boyfriend in hot pursuit.

What a complete waste of time and money this whole business was, and what a foolish undertaking by "P". There were no winners except the lawyers, a very tidy little job for Graham and who knows how much "P" had to pay his lawyer that had been described by Graham as a "very sensible young man".

I wonder how disputes were handled by neighbours in Melbourne fifty years ago? Surely they would not have taken intervention orders against each other. Maybe they used other tactics, like a big punch in the head or a wrestle on the front nature strip and console each other later over a few beers then shake hands and make up.

But now we live in an age where mediators do all the talking on behalf of the closed doors in the community.

I don't want to be a closed door.

Roll away the rock from the cave and let the world come inside.

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