Greg was chauffeur-driven home in a panda car while Sarah, high on soaring spirits with thoughts of freedom and of gratitude for the support and kind words from the WPC, half sprinted and half-skipped her way home to sanctuary.  True to his word, she soon discovered that all her windows and her doors were yawning open exposing her four children to the relentless night-time wintery elements.  Racing around like a headless chicken and cursing her senseless, self-interested, sickeningly irresponsible ex-partner; Sarah quickly closed everything and checked up on her precious brood.  She breathed a hundred thank-yous to the heavens when she realised that all her kids slumbered on, safe and blissfully unawares of the night’s chilling drama.

            Sarah then scanned the rest of the house and was horrified, although not that surprised, to find curry smeared in the playroom, hall, kitchen and stairs - in carpets, curtains, cushions and chairs.  She told herself that the clean up could wait until tomorrow and as she brewed up she smiled to herself, thinking with smug satisfaction that she would never in a million years allow that slug or anyone else for that matter to humiliate or hurt her or her kids ever again.

            As she sat at the kitchen table sipping her coffee and nursing her swollen and bruised face and arm, she suddenly noticed that one of the kitchen drawers was, unusually, wide open.  A dull realisation hit her when her gut feelings told her that he had been rummaging through her belongings.  To her utter despair and disgust she soon discovered that her diary had been stolen; her address book, her daughter’s birthday card which contained Anna’s money and, worst of all, her mum’s last diary - the one she had written in during the final weeks of life battling cancer, had also been swiped.  Sarah began to wonder what kind of contemptible creature would do such a thing.  She knew Greg was bad but she hadn’t realised he was this rotten.  What were his intentions behind stealing her most personal documents?  Just what exactly was he planning to do?  It soon dawned on her that some of her bank statements and utilities bills had also been snatched.  Sarah stared at the drawer in utter disbelief.  It was as if she’d just been raped. 

            Within minutes the telephone torment began.  He was on the other end pleading forgiveness and begging for one last chance.  Sarah burst into uncontrollable tears and gasped, “How could you take my diary and my mum’s?  What good are they to you?  And why take Anna’s birthday money?  Why?  She’s only nine.  How would you feel if I took Kim’s birthday present?”

            He went quiet, then whispered a pathetic, “I don’t know why.  I’m so sorry.  Don’t leave me Sarah.  Pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeease.  I love you.”

            Sarah gathered all her resolve and screamed down the line, “I don’t give a damn about you or what you feel.  I’m not scared of you anymore.  I can’t stand you.  I think you’re a pathetic little worm.  From tomorrow you won’t be able to bother me cos the locks will be changed and I’ll have a new phone number and you can go and rot in hell.”

            Just as she was about to cut him off he managed to get the last ominous words in:

            “You’ll come back to me soon Sarah.  You always did and you always will.  You know we’re meant to be together.  I’ll pester you if I have to until you come back to me; however long it takes.  I’ll never let you go.  You WILL be my wife.  You’ll see.”

            Sarah slammed the phone down and took herself off to bed.  The phone rang and rang and rang....