I’ll Cut The Devil Out Of You
Faye’s evil ex launched a vicious attack when she was pregnant
Raymond Hawksey had a reputation for being tough, and that’s what attracted me to him at first. In July 2010, I was in a dark place. The year before, I’d been sexually assaulted in a random attack, but despite my attacker being caught and jailed, after, I was a nervous wreck and suffered with terrible anxiety.
I need a strong man to look after me, I thought. I’d known Raymond for years through friends.
When he asked me out for a drink, I jumped at the chance.
Raymond had a wicked sense of humour - always cracking jokes. ‘You’re gorgeous,’ he’d tell me. Things moved quickly. Within months, Raymond had popped the question and, shortly after, I moved into his place. I felt safe with him. But the day before our wedding in October 2011, police came.
‘We need to warn you about Raymond,’ an officer said. ‘He has a history of violence.’
They didn’t go into much detail and, when I confronted Raymond, he broke down.
‘I’m so embarrassed,’ he cried. ‘They’ve got it all wrong.’
He explained it was all a misunderstanding.
As he got more upset, I began to feel sorry for him.
‘If you don’t want to be with me, I will understand,’ he said. I loved him and didn’t want to judge him on his past. We went ahead with the wedding, but we soon began having explosive rows. Then, in October 2013, I fell pregnant. We were excited, but I also had doubts about Raymond. His drinking and short temper were getting worse. He stopped me seeing my family too, and began texting me whenever he was out with his mates. ‘Call me’, he’d say. When I did, he’d start shouting. ‘Why are you ringing me, you paranoid cow? You’re such a nagging wife!’ he’d yell. He was trying to make me look jealous to his friends. In February 2014, it was my birthday. I hoped he’d spoil me. Instead, he went to a footy match. When he came home drunk, I told him I was upset. ‘Stop moaning you sl*g!’ he screamed. Then he kicked me in the leg with such force, I fell over. ‘If you’re not careful, I’ll
kick that baby out of you,’ he spat. Terrified, by now I’d lost touch with my friends and family. By April, I’d had enough. ‘It’s over’, I texted when Raymond was out one day.
He tried calling, but I ignored him and went to bed.
At 4am, I woke to him marching upstairs. I could smell the booze as he staggered into the bedroom.
‘Get out,’ I told him. At that, he flew into a rage. ‘You dirty cow!’ he screamed, dragging me downstairs by my hair.
He hit me and then he grabbed an old dog chain and whipped my arms, legs and stomach.
In agony, I didn’t want to provoke him, so I swallowed back the tears.
But then Raymond launched at me with a glass.
Pushing it into my face, it cracked, and blood dripped down my cheeks.
‘I’ll cut that devil out of you,’ he barked, pointing to my baby bump with a shard of glass. I clutched my tummy. ‘You need help,’ I begged,
I didn’t want to judge him on his past
He pointed the shard of glass at my baby bump
desperate to calm him down.
Somehow it worked, and he left me alone. But Raymond had hidden my phone and locked all the doors and windows.
There was no way out.
This is the end, I fretted.
I bent down to clean up the blood from the floor, and then Raymond starting urinating over me and into the mop bucket.
Then he took a glass, dipped it into the bucket filled with dishwater, urine and blood, and disgustingly took a gulp. Time passed in a blur. He let me have a shower, but sat on the toilet, watching me. ‘Let’s have sex,’ he said. At first I couldn’t believe it. He was acting like everything was normal. I knew if I refused, though, he’d lose his temper again. A few days later, Raymond dragged me out of bed and locked me in a room. At this point I had had enough and I threatened to call the police and tell them everything he had done to me. After that, Raymond packed up and left. Seeing my chance, I managed to find my phone and call the police. When they arrived minutes later, I broke down. ‘You’re safe now,’ an officer comforted me. I gave a statement and was taken to hospital. I also had a scan to check my baby. ‘Everything’s fine,’ a doctor confirmed.
Due to the stress of the attack, though, doctors wanted to induce me early.
In May 2014, my son was born weighing 6lb 14oz. ‘You’re perfect,’ I cried. He was so innocent. He didn’t deserve such a horrible dad.
That June, Raymond Hawksey, then 45, appeared at Caernarfon Crown Court and pleaded guilty to three counts of assault and one count of assault occasioning actual bodily harm. Judge Wyn Lloyd Jones told Hawksey, ‘She was pregnant with your child. You completely degraded and abused her in a serious way, and did so repeatedly.’ He was sentenced to 36 months in prison and a restraining order was imposed. But no sentence will be long enough. Hawksey attacked me when I was 35 weeks pregnant with his child. He makes me sick. I’ve since divorced him. I thought he was going to protect me. Really, it was him I needed protecting from.
RAYMOND TOOK MY PHONE AND LOCKED ALL THE DOORS
Things moved quickly with us
Faye Craven, 42
Blood dripped down my face
Going it alone