In Fear of Her Life

by Sandra Smyth

  Even then I didn’t trust him completely but it was so long since any man had shown me kindness and treated me with respect that I decided to take a risk and keep in touch with him. After all we were nothing but friends so I thought there was no harm in it.

  When I returned to Ireland a week later Johnny found out. Fiona and I had taken photographs in the Mediterranean and one day when I was at work, Johnny broke into the house and discovered them. He phoned me up that night.

  “I found the photos,” he slurred down the phone. “What are you talking about Johnny?” I said. “I found the photos, the ones of you and your toy boy.”

  “Oh Jesus,” I thought to myself.

  I knew he’d probably kill me if he thought I’d been seeing another man.

  “You’re my wife,” he screamed down the phone, “And I forbid you to go near another man. Do you hear me?”

  I put down the phone and cursed the day I ever met Johnny Smith. I continued to keep in contact with Mohammad however and it was the start of a beautiful friendship. It killed Johnny to think of me with another man, but there was nothing he could do about it. A few days later he phoned again and as usual he was drunk.

  “You know what, I’ve been thinking,” he slurred the words. “You know I love you? Well,” he hiccuped loudly down the phone. “I’ve decided to forgive you. I’ll forget about your affair, if you let me come back. I forgive you,” he sounded like the Pope and I actually laughed when I put down the receiver.

  A year later I went back to the same place in the Mediterranean with Fiona. I’d kept in touch with Mohammad by post. He wrote such lovely letters and I used to look forward to receiving them. It became a pleasure to write back to him too and it gave me something to do on the long lonely, winter evenings. The odd time he’d phone and I loved to hear his voice.

  Little by little I was beginning to trust this man and I realised he must be somewhat serious about me if he’d kept in touch for a whole year. The fact that he lived so far away helped matters; it was a safety valve if I ever wanted out.

  I was looking forward to seeing him again and besides I needed a holiday; Johnny was tormenting me with phone calls. It didn’t matter that we’d been separated for years, he’d still phone me up at all hours of the night and day. I needed to get away and forget about him for a while. I was in great form when I got to the airport. I was standing in the middle of the departure lounge with Fiona, searching the information screen when my phone rang. It was Johnny. At first I ignored it but I knew if I didn’t answer he’d keep on ringing.

  “What do you want Johnny?” I gave in eventually. “I can see you,” he laughed down the phone. I felt a shiver run down my back.

  “What are you talking about?” I said to him.

  “You’re standing in the airport and I can see you,” he laughed again but now I was worried.

  “You thought you could go off to the Mediterranean did you?” said Johnny. “Thought you could disappear off to see that fancy man of yours, eh? Well I don’t think so.”

  “Johnny leave me alone,” I said.

  “I’ll not leave you alone,” he said. “You’re not going anywhere. I’m going to cut you into little pieces with my knife. You’re not getting on that plane. I can see you and I’m coming to get you,” then he laughed sadistically and hung up the phone.

  I turned to Fiona.

  “Was it him Frances?” she said.

  The colour had drained from my face.

  “It was him alright. I can’t go Fiona. He’s in the airport and he’s going to kill me,” I was shaking with the fear.

  “Come on Fran,” said my sister as she grabbed me by the arm and pulled me behind a pillar.

  “He might not be here at all and if he is he’ll have to find us.”

  Fiona looked at her watch.

  “It’s three o’clock now Fran. We’ve only got an hour before we board. Come on we’ll hide from him.”

  We ran behind a pillar in the departure lounge and thought about where we could hide.

  “What about the ladies’ toilets?” said Fiona. “He couldn’t get in there if he wanted to.”

  The toilets were at the other end of the lounge so we scurried off towards them as fast as we could; all the time looking around us.

  “Here put these on Fran,” my sister pulled a pair of sunglasses from her bag and handed them to me. They were too big for my face and I probably looked ridiculous with them on but I didn’t care as long as I got on that flight before Johnny found me.

  We’d just reached the toilets when the phone rang again.

  “Ignore it Fran,” said Fiona.

  I let it go but it kept on ringing and I knew that would anger Johnny all the more.

  “I’m going to answer it Fiona,” I turned to my sister.

  The two of us were holed up in one of the toilet cubicles by now and we were terrified. Johnny always had a knack of creeping up behind you when you least expected it. I honestly thought he might stick his head over the wall of the toilet cubicle at any moment.

  “Hello?” I answered the phone trying not to sound frightened.

  “So you think you’re giving me the slip do you?”

  It was Johnny again.

  “Johnny, please, just leave me alone, please Johnny.” I started to cry then. The sound of his voice always brought tears to my eyes.

  “I told you, you’re not going anywhere,” he said again. “I’m going to get you.”

  I dropped the phone on the ground. Fiona picked it up but he had gone.

  “Come on Fran,” she said. “We’re going to get on that plane and he’s not going to touch us,” there was determination in her voice. The boarding gate was a ten minute walk away; it was the longest ten minutes of my life. I kept my head down and walked as fast as I could without running. I thought if I ran I would draw attention to myself.

  Fiona scoured the airport. She couldn’t see Johnny anywhere but the place was packed with people. It was the height of the holiday season.

  “Come on Frances, we’re nearly there,” there was fear in her voice as she took me by the hand.

  The boarding gate was just a few yards away, we could see it and as we ran towards it my heart beat faster.

  “Just let me get through,” I prayed. “Please God get me on to that plane alive.”

  I ran as fast as my legs could carry me, there was no time to look behind, all I could think about was reaching that gate. There were three people in the queue ahead of us and we waited with baited breath for them to go through, then it was our turn but just as we reached the departure entrance I felt a tap on my shoulder. My heart skipped a beat at that second and the world seemed to stand still as my mind raced. I knew what was waiting for me. I screamed.

  Afterwards Fiona told me I looked as white as a sheet at that moment. I turned around and to my amaze- ment there was a little old woman standing in front of me.

  “Excuse me, I didn’t mean to frighten you,” she said, “but I saw you drop your passport on the ground.”

  She held out my passport.

  By the time we got on the flight both Fiona and I were laughing hysterically. We almost expected him to be waiting for us on the plane, it didn’t make sense of course but we knew Johnny was capable of anything.

  We only really relaxed when we touched the ground and realised that we were hundreds of miles away from that mad man. It was only later that we figured out that Johnny probably hadn’t been in the airport that day but we never knew the truth.

  chapter thirty-four

  WHAT BEGAN AS a hesitant friendship had by now become a full-blown romance. It wasn’t easy for me to trust another man but I suppose the fact that he didn’t drink helped. I loved that he was consistent in the way he treated me and besides he was everything that Johnny wasn’t.

  Mohammad told me I was the most beautiful woman in the world. He was kind, considerate and respectful and I felt safe in his company. That was a brand new feeling for me. The only thing I c
ould liken it to was how I’d felt when I’d first met Johnny all those years ago, but I was an innocent teenager back then. Now I was a mature woman in her 30s who had never known the love of a grown man. Simple things like going for a drink and being able to relax were a complete novelty to me because for years I had lived in fear of Johnny and his temper.

  I was a broken woman when I met Mohammad but his gentle attitude and kindness helped to restore me. I began to realise that all the doubts I had in my mind about myself were based on years of rejection and fear. He helped me to overcome them and develop a different attitude towards life. He never asked me to change and never put me down. He loved me for who I was and that feeling was a revelation to me.

  When he first suggested that I move to the Mediterranean, I immediately thought, “No”, I’d miss the girls too much and besides Caitríona was settled in school in Dublin and I couldn’t uproot her. But as the years went on and Johnny continued to torment me with phone calls I began to give the idea serious consideration.

  At one stage I decided I’d give it a go and I went to the Mediterranean for a month. While I was there I thought about how it would feel to live in that region permanently.

  I imagined myself waking up to glorious sunshine all year round and listening to the chants of the Muslims as they performed their daily worship. I saw myself cooking Mediterranean meals and walking on the beach each day. Of course, I imagined myself living with Mohammad too. At that stage he had sold his bar and was now working in real estate. He made a good living from his work and we’d have a comfortable life together.

  Although I will always love the Mediterranean and I have a great sense of peace in the knowledge that I am far, far away from Johnny, in the end I decided I wanted to stay in Ireland. Even though I complain about the greyness and the rain, the cost of living and the way Ireland has changed in recent years, Dublin will always be my home.

  Besides I knew I’d miss my sisters and my father, I’d miss the three girls and I’d never know my grand- children. I decided Johnny Smith wouldn’t stop me from living the life I chose.

  Shortly after that I got a legal separation from Johnny. I remember the day it came through. I’d been to see my solicitor in the city centre and Helen had come with me.

  The two of us were walking down Grafton Street afterwards. I was on a high. For years I’d dreamed of getting away from that man and now it had become a reality. I was also delighted because I finally had the house in my own name and nobody could make me leave.

  It was raining that day but I didn’t care; nothing could dampen my spirits. We were walking down the street, laughing and talking happily when I took off my wedding ring. It was the one Johnny had given me years ago; the one with the inscription “I Love you” on the inside.

  “What are you doing Fran?” Helen was shocked. “Sure what do I need it for now Helen?” I asked. “It represents all those years of hardship and I don’t want it,” with that I lifted my arm into the air and threw it down the street with all my might. I felt like I was throwing away all those memories, all that pain and suffering. “Maybe someone else will find it and have more luck with it than I ever did.”

  The ring fell a few yards away and rolled down the street. I followed it with my eyes for a few seconds and then it was lost amid the footsteps of the shoppers and the rain. I smiled.

  “It’s a new beginning for me Helen,” I said.

  Ever since Caitríona had been born, Johnny had shown little interest in her. He never played with her the way he had with the other girls when they were young and to be honest he hardly knew the child. He didn’t mark her birthday or buy her presents at Christmas and she didn’t even call him Da.

  The only man she had ever known was Mohammad and he had been more of a father to her than Johnny. She knew that Johnny existed and I never said anything bad about him in her company.

  Once we separated however he started asking if he could see her. Unlike the other girls Caitríona had grown up with no memory of the years of abuse. As a result her childhood had been happy and carefree. I wanted to keep it that way. It did worry me however that she had no father and I didn’t want her to turn on me years later and blame me for never knowing her father, so I agreed.

  Johnny wanted to take her out every Sunday afternoon. The only way I could let her go was if I accompanied them. I didn’t trust that man. I knew he was capable of anything and I wanted to protect my daughter at all costs. Caitríona had become a great favourite with all of us. The three girls were all mad about her, as were Helen and Fiona.

  One Sunday afternoon the three of us we went to dinner. Johnny brought to us a posh restaurant in town and paid for the meal by credit card. Caitríona was only eight at the time and it meant nothing to her really. She sat between us, ate ice cream and smiled shyly at Johnny.

  I found it strange to play Daddies and Mammies with my ex-husband. Stranger still was the way he treated me—as if I was the love of his life. All through the meal he begged me to take him back.

  “Please,” he said. “Please take me back. You know you’re the only woman for me? Nobody else matters.” I actually found it comical, up to a point. Ever since I’d found out about the affair Johnny knew there was no way I’d ever take him back and that just made him want me all the more. You’d think the years of abuse had never happened and he continued to ring me everyday. It drove me mad and I longed for the day he would leave me alone.

  Shortly after that, I was awarded full custody of Caitríona. Legally Johnny didn’t have a leg to stand on. He’d been unemployed for years and I’d got five barring orders against him, besides he didn’t even show up at the court on the day. Mind you he was furious when he found out. I knew he didn’t care about Caitríona, but he just wanted to use her as a way of getting at me.

  Before that he had been threatening to kidnap her.

  “I’m going to snatch her as she comes out of school,” he used to say to me on the phone. “She’s my daughter and she belongs to me. I’m going to take her and you’re never going to see her again.”

  I was terrified. I knew Johnny Smith was capable of anything and I loved that child so much I couldn’t bear for her to be hurt.

  On one occasion I was going to the Mediterranean for a holiday, Caitríona was eight-years-old and I’d decided it was time she came with me. I booked the tickets and then I realised I’d need Johnny’s permission to bring her. I rang the passport office and they told me I needed to notify my husband 21 days in advance of my trip. I didn’t have 21 days so I would have to get a court order to bring her out of the country. Of course Johnny challenged it and I knew if we went court he’d bring up the fact that I had a boyfriend in the Mediterranean. I worried myself sick for two weeks and then two days before we were due to go, we were called to the court.

  Johnny seemed confident as he stood up in front of the judge that day.

  “Your honour,” he said in his best accent. “My wife,” and he pointed at me, “is taking my baby abroad on holiday. She’s going to the Mediterranean to see her boyfriend.”

  He made reference to his “baby” a number of times before the judge interrupted him.

  “Excuse me Mr. Smith,” he said, “but what age is ‘your baby’?”

  “She’s eight your honour,” said Johnny.

  The judge replied, “Well I don’t think she’s a baby, do you Mr. Smith?”

  “No your honour,” said Johnny and he hung his head. I could tell he was afraid of the judge. Johnny always had a fear of the law.

  Then the judge turned to me.

  “Is this true Mrs. Smith? Do you intend to visit your boyfriend in the Mediterranean?”

  My heart was racing as I answered him. I felt guilty even though I’d done nothing wrong. I felt as if I had no right to have a boyfriend, but there no way out of it. I looked the judge in the eye and held my head high.

  “Yes your honour,” I replied. “We’ll be staying in his apartment.”

  “And do
you plan to return to Ireland?” asked the judge.

  “Of course your honour,” I replied.

  Suddenly Johnny stood up in the courtroom and shouted at the judge.

  “I want it stipulated that my wife will return to Ireland with my baby,” he said.

  Up to now Johnny had been on his best behaviour but now he was making a fool of himself. The judge turned to him and it was obvious that he was annoyed.

  “Please sit down Mr. Smith.”

  Johnny did as he was told but he was angry. I knew he felt foolish. Then the judge spoke again.

  “What part of what I’ve told you do you not understand? This woman is not your ‘wife’,” he said pointing at me.

  “And the child is not a baby. She’s eight-years-old.”

  Then he asked Johnny if he was presently supporting “the baby” and Johnny said, “No”, he was unemployed.

  The judge turned to me.

  “I’m putting that child on your passport until she’s 18-years-old Mrs. Smith,” he said. “So you won’t have to come back in here again.”

  I was delighted. Johnny sat there with his head bent and when he did look up he was furious.

  “And Mrs. Smith,” said the judge before we finished, “I hope you have a great holiday because you deserve it.”

  Then he turned to Johnny.

  “By the way Mr. Smith, that child will return when your ex-wife decides to bring her back.”

  I walked out of the courtroom on air. For once I had won the battle and there was nothing Johnny Smith could do about it. Caitríona and I went off two days later and I never enjoyed a holiday more.

  chapter thirty-five

  ALL THE GIRLS had continued to keep in touch with their father despite the fact that we were separated. When Johnny and I first split up, I thought that they would cut off all contact with him like I was trying to do, but they didn’t and it upset me.

  I couldn’t understand why they would pass the time of day with him after everything we’d been through over the years.