What he did with a cuppa is sickening
I thought my hubby had changed his ways – then he switched on the kettle…
David would come home steaming, paranoid and irrational
Shaking from the shock, I held my belly in pain.
‘Don’t be frightened, darling,’ I said reassuringly to my son, then 2, as he stared, scared, at what had just happened.
I was wincing in pain, but I took my little boy up to bed and managed to shush him to sleep.
It was January 2006, and me and my husband David, then 28, had just got in from an evening out when he’d flown into one of his rages.
He had to be up early and our babysitter hadn’t been able to settle our toddler.
‘I’ve had enough of this!’ he’d boomed, punching me in the stomach and pushing me against the wall.
Pain had flashed through me. I was over four months pregnant with our fifth child.
And this wasn’t the first time that David had lashed out at me.
But now I’d reached my limit – I called the police and David was arrested, taken off in a police car.
Afterwards, as I lay in bed in agony, I finally let the tears flow.
I felt my baby kick and relief washed over me. But the next morning, I booked a scan to check everything was alright.
Thankfully, the baby was fine.
David and I had first met when we were teenagers, and I thought he was my Prince Charming, charismatic and funny – a real gent.
He’d hold doors open for me, treat me to meals out. I fell pregnant unexpectedly and our son arrived in October 1995. We were both still teenagers. It was tough, but we were determined that we’d make a go of it. I wasn’t close to my parents – but, at first, David was all I needed. Working long hours as a labourer, he was a loving partner and dad. But, after we had our second son, in March 1997, David started going to the pub regularly to play darts. He would come home steaming, paranoid and irrational… ‘Those kids aren’t mine!’ he boomed one night, in the winter of 1998. ‘But they look just like you,’ I stuttered. They had the same blue eyes, brown hair... Still, David saw red, and pushed me down the stairs.
‘Stop!’ I pleaded, huddled on the floor as he heaved the pram on top of me.
Believe me, I thought about leaving.
But I had no money. Plus I had the kids to support.
And David tried to curb his temper.
He took us on holiday, and he was the life and soul of the party, making the kids giggle.
We went on to have a daughter, and, in August 2001, we got married.
But now, in 2006, after his latest outburst, I knew that I had no choice but to stand up to him.
I couldn’t spend my life walking on eggshells.
So, in April 2006, David was charged and put on probation for two years.
He begged forgiveness, vowed to stop drinking and attended a domesticviolence course.
‘A leopard never changes its spots,’ one friend warned when I agreed to give David another chance.
‘But he’s calmed down,’ I told them.
We had three more children. Of course, with
He swung back his arm…and flung his scalding cup of tea at me
seven kids, life was hectic. But we got by.
In February 2010, I started working as a home carer in the evenings.
I reconnected with my parents and made some new friends.
Feeling stronger, I found myself wondering what life would be like without David.
And, gradually, I realised that I’d fallen out of love with him.
So finally, in September 2018, after weeks of me sleeping on the sofa, I mustered the courage….
‘It’s time to go our separate ways,’ I told him sadly.
‘I understand,’ he shrugged, offering to find a flat as soon as he could. Relief washed over me. I felt excited about having a fresh start.
Then, weeks later, David called me and asked if
I could collect him from a darts game.
I didn’t mind helping out – but, when he got into the car and sat in stony silence, I had a sinking feeling.
Back home, I settled on the sofa to watch TV with my son, then 18.
David went into the kitchen to make a cuppa, didn’t ask if I wanted one.
But at least he wasn’t starting a row…
Minutes later, he reappeared.
Suddenly, without saying a word, he swung back his arm… and flung his cup of tea at my face.
There was a loud bang as it smashed into my jaw and scalding tea dripped down my chest.
I screamed in agony. ‘Stop it!’ my son shouted as David pounced on me, punching me in the chest and face.
He was bellowing furiously at me, accusing me of all sorts of ridiculous things.
I scrambled to grab my phone, but David was too quick for me.
He snatched it out of my hand, and flung it against the wall.
Frantically, I lunged for the landline and managed to dial 999.
Within minutes, the police arrived and David was arrested.
Shaking with shock, I had blood dripping down my face from where he’d split my left eyelid. My chest was stinging, burning from the scalding tea.
I was taken to County Hospital Louth, where a doctor glued my eyelid.
Thankfully, X-rays showed that nothing was broken and, while my scalded skin was agony, the doctors reassured me that I’d heal without any scarring.
In October 2018, David Wilson, 40, appeared at Boston Magistrates Court.
He admitted assaulting me and was handed a six-month suspended sentence plus slapped with a restraining order. He’d avoided jail. Again.
I was disgusted that he’d walked away scot-free.
Because what he did will stay with me for the rest of my life.
I still get flashbacks, end up sobbing.
And I can’t believe that I wasted 25 years on him.
But at least I’ve got my beautiful children. With them by my side, I’m looking to the future at long last. FOR HELP AND ADVICE Call the 24-hour National Domestic Violence Freephone Helpline on 0808 2000 247