Once I went back to work my life changed. The money was average, the hours crap and juggling the kids was bloody hard work. I had many moments of regret and guilt and many weeks it cost me more in child care fees than I earned but after a year I was doing what I had trained for. I was out making house calls on people that wanted me to design rooms and sometimes, entire homes for them. But more than that, I had come back to life; I felt a part of the world again. I loved being a mum but I needed more than staying home with the children all day, to make me the mum they deserved. I had a new vibrancy and buzz about me. I had less spare time but more energy than I'd had in years so every spare moment I spent with the boys, we would get out of the house, to parks or the zoo or museums. If we did stay home, we would get creative and paint or draw or make things. So much more fulfilling than just plonking them down in front of the TV. It changed everything about my relationship with Jason too. I now had things to discuss at the dinner table, I had things to tell him about my day, and now with a list of child-minders and babysitters to choose from, we could have the occasional night out together. We got back on track.
He changed his mind about leaving me and we had stayed together. I think it’s from that time where some of my issues stem from. Over the years I have convinced myself that I should be grateful that he stayed with me.
Anyway, all of this had eventually allowed us to sell our house for a tidy profit, buy a block of land out of the city and close to the beach and build our dream home and for me to set up my own interior design business .
That had all happened over twenty years ago....
The boys were now grown. Sonny was over in the UK with his girlfriend. He’s a professional rugby player and living it up and earning money playing a sport that he has loved his whole life. Jess his girlfriend is a doctor and was finishing off her qualification as a paediatrician at one of the best children's hospitals in the world.
Ryder has inherited design and build skills from both his parents and is now an architect, designing houses for the development company Jason now owns and runs.
For us, life is pretty good and most people assume I have it all and in many ways I do but for how much longer am I prepared to put up with being so unhappy on the inside? The boys know that Jason has a bad temper and have witnessed him losing it with me many times over the years but I have always warned them to stay out of any of our arguments no matter what, in fear that he would turn his wrath on one of my children but they have no idea how bad things have become over the past months, how viciously Jay now speaks to me when he loses his temper and how frequently it is happening.
I had tried to talk to him; I had tried to make things better. I booked weekends away for us, arranged weekends away for just Jay with friends; anything to try and chill him out, help him relax.
As far as Jason was concerned I completely over reacted to our fights and blew them out of all proportion. The truth was, he had never hit me; he had never swung a punch and actually HIT me....He had however, dragged me from room to room by my hair, pushed me to the floor, squeezed my cheeks until my mouth bled, smashed my head into walls and squeezed my throat until I almost passed out .
Looking back, I know I should have acted years ago but the truth of the matter is simple, I love him and I feel that I’m not entirely blameless in some of the arguments that have led to his violent outbursts. I know I’m no angel, I have a smart mouth, and don't like to be told ...but now I have reached the stage that I am no longer in love with him enough to tolerate the abuse. This makes me sad, so very sad to accept this fact but I am worth more that.
So it is then, that I lay here now, in our bed, waiting for my husband to leave for work before I get up to make a coffee so that I don't risk having a conversation with him and saying something that might just piss him off enough to start with the violence again .
CHAPTER TWO
I have been looking forward to this night out for weeks; it’s just what I need. A loud, raucous night of drunken girl talk, a chance to forget about everything else and the decision I have come to. I have never disclosed the violent nature of my domestic situation to any of my girlfriends, as far as my girls are concerned, I have a good marriage and for the most part, I do. That’s the gutting thing about all of this, if he could just see what he was throwing away. They are as close to me as sisters but they have no idea I am planning on leaving my husband and they have no idea my husband hurts me ... And just for one more night, that was the way it was going to stay!
I am the oldest amongst my group of girlfriends but with good genes and a lot of vanity, I know I don't look it. I’ve always had a pretty good figure and a decent pair of boobs that have stood up well to the test of time. As a child I had hated my curly red hair and had sworn that as soon as I was old enough I would have it straightened and dye it black. But at around the age of sixteen, I began to realise, my curly red mane and my generously sized knockers could get me just about anything I wanted where men were concerned and over the years, with the quality of straighteners and product on offer, I now had the option of straight, controlled waves or full on curls when it came to styling my hair. Well that’s what it said on the side of the bottle any way! Tonight I had opted for sleek and straight but with the sides flicking back and hanging down past my shoulders. Very seventies in style.