Quick, come in before John sees you here. He is in one of his moods again. He says I was flirting with the milkman on thursday night, when I gave him the tokens for Oliver's milk. I wasn't, but you know what he's like.
He's still going on about it a whole week later. He tore up all our photos, and he...he...he hit me again.
He had his hands around my throat for so long that I actually passed out. I thought I was going to die. I was so terrified. I didn't even know if he would hurt Oliver; his mood was so bad. He has been stomping about, ignoring me, ever since. It got me thinking though.
I like sitting here, in this bay window, on my sofa. It's where I get my gossip, since John won't let me go out alone. Mrs O' Neill and the rest of her gang gather outside my window for a natter a couple of times a week. I 'ear-wig' as much as I can, and try to keep up with all the local news.
I heard them talking about...what was her name? Oh yes, it was Sarah Reed! You do know the woman I mean, don't you? The young mum that was killed late last week? It was on the news apparently. Not that John lets me watch T.V.
Apparently; everyone knows it was the husband who did it, but the police need more evidence. Mrs O' Neill says he did it because he suspected she was having an affair, but she thinks that's a ridiculous idea because the poor girl never went anywhere without him. She says he stuck to her as though they were 'joined at the hip.'
There John goes now, slamming the door in my face, as though I don't exist. He's going to that girl's funeral.
Her young son saw everything apparently. He's too young to be a witness...but it must have traumatised him though. I think my wee Oliver has seen enough, what with his Dad hitting me and all. I don't want him to have to go through the same thing as that girl's son. I really don't...but what can I do?
Oh my lord...here comes the funeral, look at all the mourners, and oh my, that must be her mother carrying her son. Poor wee lamb! I could never put my family through that...Yuck! There's the husband, look at that sneer, he's definitely guilty.
That's it, I've made my mind up...I'm definitely leaving him. I'll go to my Mum's house, she has baby Oliver today anyway.
John wasn't always like this you know...he used to be kind. He always called me his Pretty Angel...but the second we got married; he changed. He turned possessive, stopped me from working, or going out, or even visiting family.
I remember the first time he hit me, I was twelve weeks pregnant. I was so shocked, and embarrassed, that I had ended up with an abuser that I stayed. I regret that now. But this girl's death won't be in vain, it's spurred me on to go.
Here comes John now, you can tell by the slam of the door. God, he's drunk. Never mind, there's never going to be a good time. I'm going to tell him now.
"John, I'm leaving you." Silence.
"Didn't you hear me? I'm leaving you." Silence.
"Stop ignoring me! I'm going...and Oliver's staying with me! We're going to my Mother's house, I'm getting a divorce!" Silence. See, this is how he treats me, when he isn't hitting me, that is. Come on.
Who is that knocking at this time? Well, he can answer it, I'm sick of being his slave... Oh my God...look, he's actually getting it. I wonder who it is? Policemen?!?!?!?
"Mr John Reed, we are arresting you for the murder of your wife Sarah Reed..."