Tony instantly assumed that I was attacking his youngest, which wasn't the case I was merely trying to give him the whole picture to enable him to see that he had accused and punished the wrong child.
The discussion quickly became very heated. I know that look in his eye and his stance. I was determined that I wasn't going to show any fear. I stood my ground, I didn't or so I thought, antagonise, but I did continue in trying to make my point. Tony went outside to smoke, while I washed some pots. I don't remember exactly what was said but something he said put me on notice, I knew what was coming. I closed and locked the back door leaving him outside. This now did antagonise. He was furious. I went to bed. The stones and goodness knows what else started to hit my bedroom window. This was part or his standard armory. I could hear him shouting, he was becoming more and more agitated.
I went to the window, he demanded that I wake his children he didn’t want them in the house with me. I refused and said he should leave them be they were asleep why should they be disturbed. He wouldn't let it lie, so eventually I woke them, told they had to get dressed as their dad wanted them out of the house.
The youngest child was faffing about putting his shoes on, it took what felt like an eternity. All the while all I can think about is which door do I send them out through. Is Tony at the front or the back? I saw him at the front so I hurried the children through the house and to the back door. I thought Tony was still at the front. I was wrong.
As I opened the door, he flung it back against the kitchen wall and ran through it grabbing me and picking me up, he then threw me from the kitchen across the dining room. I slide across the far side of the table and into the sideboard severely banging the back of my head. I was out cold. I came to to see Tony standing over me with a flip-flop in his hand. He then started battering me about the head and face with his flip-flop.
The next thing I remember was being sat on the couch in the main living room. Two years on I have no idea how I got there. Tony wasn't in the room. As I tried to get up he appeared and again started kicking and punching me. I think I must have passed out again, next I knew half an hour had passed and Tony was again nowhere to be seen.
I managed to get upstairs and get my phone bag and keys and even to get back downstairs and out of the house. All the while I was looking over my shoulder, stopping in my tracks as I heard a noise was it him was he following me. My own heart beat echoing in my ears. I was out of the house, I'd got away.
He grabbed me, he was there right behind me. He threw me over his shoulder and carried me screaming, I've never screamed so loud or so long in my life. I was determined to wake the neighbours, someone had to hear and phone the police, please.
He carried me back into my home and threw me across my lounge against the far wall. He then grabbed me and pulled me up and threw punch after punch after punch each and every one landed and injuring.
After each bout it was almost as he took a break, to re-group. Or maybe each time I could take no more and passed out his conscience got the better of him. Whichever, I came to and again found myself alone. This time I ran to my bedroom and barricaded the door with every piece of furniture that I could move.
Momentarily I felt safe. He wouldn't be able to open a door that had two chests of drawers a large leather chair and a wash basket behind it, would he?