again; because these fierce assaults clearly didn’t feel like love to me. Perhaps having a family would be the solution? The abuse would surely stop. Wouldn’t it?
One weekend my parents had unexpectedly decided to pay a visit and brought round some small traditional sweets for us to have with our evening meal. My husband sat there staring at the clock and glancing at me with his side looks as if to say, ‘When are they going to leave?’ They had barely been in the house for less than five minutes, when he made it clear he wasn’t comfortable with them being in our house.
Dad tinkered around in the garden and took my husband to sit outside with him since the weather was pleasant for a change. Mum stayed with me in the kitchen and helped me to cook lunch.