She shook her head. ‘No — I saw — heard him — leave for work about ten minutes ago.’
‘Can we come in and have a chat?’
‘Please,’ the woman replied, weepily. ‘Please. Let me just put the dogs in another room so they don’t run out.’
She closed the front door, then a few moments later opened it again, and ushered them into a small, immaculately tidy hall, with white wall-to-wall carpeting on which were several urine stains, two of them looking fresh. The dogs, in another room, were all still yapping.
The officers followed her through into a small kitchen, with one wall taken up by a huge tank filled with tropical fish. On the table were laid out hairdressing tools and a number of bottles of shampoo, conditioners and sprays, along with a laptop. Through a sliding glass door they could see a large dog and a bunch of puppies in a small conservatory, and a beautiful garden beyond, with a hot-tub, wicker furniture and several ornaments.
The woman indicated for them to sit down and then pulled up a chair opposite the wooden table and laid her phone on the table’s surface. ‘Would you like some tea or coffee?’ she asked.
‘We’re fine, thank you,’ PC Solomon said. Suddenly there was a loud voice over her radio and she turned the volume down, then pulled out her notebook. ‘Tell us what happened?’
The woman stood up, walked over to the worktop and tore off a sheet of kitchen towel, which she used to dab her eyes. As she sat back down she said, ‘I’m breeding puppies — Labradoodles.’
‘Awww,’ Juliet Solomon said. ‘I love those dogs, always wanted one!’
‘They’re adorable. But my husband hates them. He was just about to leave for work this morning when one of the puppies got out of the conservatory’ — she pointed at the glass door — ‘and pooed on the carpet. Corin picked up the poo in his hand and pushed it into my face. Then he punched me, several times, screaming that he was going to kill me, and take them to a dogs’ home when he got back this evening. Then he hit me again. I ran upstairs and locked myself in the bathroom, and called — dialled — 999.’
‘The Control Room told me that, according to our records, it’s the third time this has happened in recent months — we want to try and help you to be safe.’
Lorna Belling nodded and wiped her eyes. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘I know I’m being a nuisance. I’m just at my wits’ end — I’m really scared of him.’
‘You are not being a nuisance at all,’ Juliet said.
Lorna’s phone pinged with a text and, momentarily distracted, she peered at it to see who it was from.
‘Where does your husband work?’ Matt Robinson asked.
‘A tech company, South Downs IT Solutions.’ She looked at the text message again.
Juliet Solomon wrote the name of the company down. ‘How does he get to work?’ she asked
‘By train. He’s lost his licence — for drink-driving.’
‘Is that why you’re selling the car?’
‘No, that’s — well, was — my reason.’ She pointed in the direction of the dogs. ‘I need to get an estate car for that lot. But there’s a bit of a story behind selling the car — some fraud involved.’
‘Do we know about this?’
‘Yes, your colleagues do know — but it’s not connected to...’ She opened out her hands in a gesture of despair.
Robinson stepped away and spoke into his radio.
‘Who owns this house?’ Juliet asked her.
Lorna pointed at her chest. ‘Corin was made redundant not long after I met him. He moved in with me, then we got married.’ She thought for a moment. ‘Seven years ago. Since then we’ve remortgaged but I own the larger share.’
‘Why don’t you tell him to leave, Lorna?’ Juliet asked her, gently.
‘I’m planning to,’ the woman said. ‘But you know what it’s like, there’s never a right time.’ She pointed at the huge tank. ‘There’s five thousand pounds’ worth of tropical fish in here — he’s the only one who knows how to clean and maintain it.’
The police officer peered at it for some moments. ‘Have you thought about sushi?’ she asked.
Lorna laughed, lightening up for the first time. ‘I wish.’
‘Would you like me to contact one of our DV caseworkers for you? They could help you,’ Juliet said.
‘DV?’
‘Domestic Violence.’
After some moments she said, bleakly, ‘Yes — please — thank you.’
Matt Robinson came back over and sat down. ‘There’s a car on its way to your husband’s office. They’ll arrest him as soon as he arrives.’
Lorna clapped a hand over her mouth. ‘No,’ she said. ‘Please don’t.’
‘You can’t live like this, Lorna,’ Juliet said.
Lorna burst into a flood of tears. Then she looked at her watch.
‘Oh God,’ she said. ‘My client’s due — my first of the day. My eight o’clock.’
The two officers stood up. ‘I’ll call the caseworkers, Lorna. Someone will be in touch, OK?’
Lorna nodded.
‘And if your husband turns up back here, don’t let him in, but call 999 immediately.’
As the two officers climbed back into their car, Juliet Solomon turned to her colleague. ‘You know the saddest thing of all with domestic abuse, Matt? So many of the victims are terrified to leave and face an uncertain future alone. So they find excuses why they have to stay or why they won’t kick their partner out.’
‘Like cleaning the tropical fish?’
‘Exactly.’
9
Monday 18 April
Just over an hour later, as her client was leaving, Lorna’s phone rang.
‘Hello?’ she answered.
‘Lorna Belling?’
‘Yes?’
‘My name’s Cassandra Montagnini, I’m a Domestic Violence caseworker. Is it safe to talk?’
‘Yes, yes, it’s fine. Thank you.’ She glanced at her watch. Her next client wasn’t due for half an hour. She had two more bookings this morning, then the prospect of another very interesting lunchtime!
Screw you, ‘Greg’.
‘So, how are you, Lorna?’
‘I’m OK.’
‘The officers told me about the incident at your home a little earlier this morning. Would you like some help from us? We can give you support to try to make you feel safer.’
‘Yes, yes, I would, please.’
‘OK — I wonder if we can just talk things through.’
‘I have my next client coming in about half an hour — I’m a hairdresser.’
‘Would you like me to call back later?’
‘Now is fine.’
‘OK, if your client comes we can continue later. Is that OK?’
‘Yes, thank you.’
‘How did your husband hurt you?’
‘He punched me in the face and chest, and I think I may have a cracked rib. He usually hits me where it doesn’t show. He also tried to push dog crap into my mouth and covered my face in it. Now I’m really terrified of him. He does this when he gets into a rage about something, which seems to be more and more of the time these days.’
‘What are you frightened of, Lorna?’
‘The police said they’re arresting him. He’ll be livid when he comes home. It’ll be even worse.’
‘OK, I’ll talk to them. I’ve been told they’re waiting for him to arrive at his office, where he’ll be arrested. We will make sure that if and when he is released you are safe. OK?’
Lorna thanked her again.
‘How are you feeling in yourself?’
‘I’m just so depressed, I’d never hurt myself but I constantly feel like shit.’
‘Have you considered moving out at all?’
Boy, had she considered that. For the past eighteen months of her living hell she’d been planning her new life with Greg Just waiting for him to give her the word and she was out of here. Now, from what she had learned, that was not going to happen and she was back to square one. ‘Yes,’ she answered.