by Rita Harling
He didn’t stay long. I think he felt slightly awkward and a little embarrassed. I don’t know if the Finglas brothers ever discussed the beating with Brian, but I know that they were furious. Even if it was discussed, Brian would never have told me about it.
That was the last beating I was going to take from Brian Kenny. I was relieved that someone else had seen me that way — especially someone Brian was trying to impress. Despite the beating, I knew I was getting stronger. I knew my freedom was getting closer.
When the holidays were over and my bruises had faded, the children got back into their daily routines. Robyn settled back into school and Conor went back to pre-school. I took up my position as a Reservations Agent with United Airlines, and was enjoying it. I was studying hard too. A few weeks later Brian fell out with the Finglas brothers. He had not been spending much time at home, which was great. I could study in peace. I was still unhappy about driving the Ford Focus, but if it meant that I could get to work I would have to drive it. I had no alternative. It was important for me to get to work and to start earning my own money.
By early February the rows had again broken my temporary peace. Brian was making demands on me, this time involving his family. He told me to collect his grandmother twice a week and take her shopping. I refused. He came through the bathroom door and flung the car keys at me, hurting my hand as I tried to protect myself. The following morning, I went and visited my mam and I explained my situation to her. I told her how concerned I was about driving the Ford Focus. She agreed to go to the Finglas Motors dealership with me. She understood how important it was for me to buy a car of my own — a car that was safe and not a ringer. Mam went as a guarantor on a car loan for me. I filled out all the forms and my application was processed. I collected the car the next day.
I didn’t say a word to Brian.
The following morning, Brian’s dad arrived at the house. I asked him to drive me to my mam’s house in the Ford Focus. I then told him to leave it back at the cottage. He asked me how I was going to get home. I explained my plan to him. He was worried about Brian’s reaction. At this point I really didn’t care about Brian’s reaction. I was ready for it.
That night would be the last night I would spend in Mitchelstown Cottage. It was 13 February 2002. I drove my new Ford Fiesta home and parked it in the drive next to the Ford Focus. I knew what I was up against and I knew that Brian would go mental when he got home, so I prepared myself.
We had not shared the same room in a long time and I was sleeping in the nursery. My plan was that I would go to bed that night with my red dressing gown on over my clothes. It had two pockets in the front of it. I placed my car keys, my mobile phone and some money in the pockets of the dressing gown. Brian had been missing all day and it was nearing 2.00 a.m. when I heard his car pull into the drive. I suspected that he had been out wining and dining Amanda Joyce, because the following day was Valentine’s Day.
I could hear Brian open the back door, but I didn’t hear him close it. I waited for him to come into the bedroom. My heart was racing. He came through the door, and, without saying a word, he grabbed me by the dressing gown and lifted me like a sack of potatoes. He carried me through the house and threw me out the back door onto the patio. He was shouting at me: ‘That’s insubordination, that’s insubordination.’ He locked the back door so I couldn’t get back in, and turned off the kitchen light. He had done what I thought he would do. What he didn’t realise was that I actually had my car keys and mobile phone in my pockets. I got into the car and drove quietly out of the drive, letting out a sigh of relief as I headed down the North Road towards my mam’s house.
When I got to mam’s the house was dark, so I called her on the phone to let her know that I was outside. She came and let me in. I told her that I could not take anymore from Brian and had left. She urged me not to go back but she was concerned about the kids as they were still in the house with him. She worried that he may be taking it out on them. I got back in the car and headed back up to the house. I was nervous as I approached — I prayed to God that the lights were out and the house was in darkness. If it was, I knew that he was asleep and that he was not tormenting the kids. It was thank God. So I headed back to mam’s house, were I slept for a few hours.
At 8.00 a.m. the next morning I headed back to the cottage to get the kids. I knew that Robyn would be up and getting ready for school and she would be wondering where I was. When I got to the house I could see Brian’s dad, Billy, in the kitchen. Brian and the kids were there too. Robyn was dressed in her school uniform and Conor was still in his pyjamas. When Brian saw me, he unlocked the door and shoved Robyn out to me. I was not leaving until I had my son too. Conor was standing against the glass crying to get out to me and banging his little fists against the glass. My heart was pounding. I was praying that Billy would convince Brian to let my son come with me. I wasn’t going anywhere without both of my kids. Then Brian opened the door, let Conor out and then locked the door again. I breathed an immense sigh of relief. We were out. We were free!
The following evening Brian’s dad called to Mary’s house. He was not calling to see if we were OK. He was calling on his son’s behalf, demanding that Brian’s house key be returned. I was shocked. I thought that it was interesting that now it was Brian’s house — how quickly I had been cast aside. Mary could not understand why Billy was at her door making demands on me. She told me not to give him the keys, but I had a duplicate set, so I gave them to him. I had another set made months earlier after I had been locked out of the house. I swore that Brian would not get the better of me again, but I never got to use the extra set. I was so glad to have escaped with the kids that I didn’t care if Brian wanted my keys or not. We had escaped from a nightmare. Our new lives together could begin. Just me and the kids — no Brian!
Chapter Seven
LIFE WITHOUT BRIAN
After the kids and I left Brian we stayed with Mary at her home in Finglas. We slept in the box room, all three of us. It was small but comfortable and safe. It was a peaceful place compared to the war zone we’d escaped from. I knew that it would only be temporary because I had applied to Dublin City Council for a place of our own. It would take time to get a place but the wait would be worth it.
Brian was still harassing me with threatening phone calls, so I applied to the courts for a safety and protection order. I went to the Legal Aid Board and discussed my case with a female solicitor, Avril Sheridan. Avril was very supportive and gave me some great advice. She made me feel that everything would be OK.
In the weeks after we had left Mitchelstown Cottage, I learned that Amanda Joyce had moved into the house. She didn’t waste time, I thought. I also discovered that Brian was dealing drugs again, and that he was enjoying his own product. There was no way on this earth that Brian was going to have custody of our son, especially now that he was dealing again and using. I would do my utmost to stop it. My baby son was growing up and achieving so much. I was sad to think that for someone so young, life had been so cruel. He had witnessed so much, and now his father would be absent from his life. The phone calls continued from both Brian and Amanda. I began to feel sorry for Amanda. She really did not know what she was getting into.
One morning Mary and I were getting ready to go to work. We planned to drop the kids off at school on the way. When we left the house, we were shocked to find that the passenger and driver’s windows of the car had been smashed. There was no doubt in my mind that it was Brian’s revenge.
I rang Brian, as I was fuming. He, of course, denied any involvement, but surprisingly offered to pay for the windows. He wanted to take the car away and have the windows replaced for me. I declined, as I was sure that it would be the last time that I’d see the car. I didn’t own it outright and was still paying my car loan. I knew he could easily steal it — like he had my last car — and replace it with another ringer. I feared that he would put me into further debt. I booked the car into a glazier the following day, 13 Ma
rch 2002, the same day as the court hearing for the safety order.
I knew Brian would be his usual cocky self in court that day. I just had to explain to the judge my concerns for my safety and that of my children. I had already been advised that five years was the maximum amount of time that a safety order could be granted for, but at the end of the five years I could reapply to the courts for an extention if need be. Brian joked: ‘Give it to her for forty-five years!’
The judge granted me the full the five years, I was so relieved. Brian was instructed that he was bound to the court’s ruling and was not to threaten or approach me in any -way.
We left the court happy. Mary and I went to collect my car from the garage in Smithfield. We made our way along the quays. We had just arrived at the garage when we noticed a red sportscar approach us. The car resembled a Toyota Celica. At first I didn’t notice that it was Brian in the car — I had never seen him in a car like that. Before he got a chance to get out of the car, Mary started to cause a commotion. She wanted to draw people’s attention to us so that Brian would be less inclined to hassle us. Mary started shouting and waving her hands around in the air. She then beckoned and jestured for people to come and assist us. It was obvious to onlookers that something was going on. Brian made some comment out the window at us before leaving the area, aware that two mechanics had come to the front door to see what all the commotion was. Brian had received a safety order just twenty minutes earlier, and he was already coming after me to abuse me again.
Two days later, on 15 March, Brian broke the safety order again. I had driven to Finglas Village after working at United Airlines that morning. I was on my way to collect Conor from pre-school and had parked the car at the back of the building on Church Street in Finglas. I had just strapped Conor into the car seat and got into the driver’s seat. I put the car into reverse, but, when I looked in the rearview mirror, I saw that a strange car was blocking me in. It was only when I looked in the wing mirror on the driver’s side that I realised it was Brian. I quickly pushed the lock button on the doors. However, the window on the driver’s side was down a few inches.
Brian was beside the car in no time. He pulled at the door handle and when he realised it was locked, tried grabbing at me through the window. He wrestled with me for the keys, which were in the ignition. Luckily he couldn’t reach them. Conor was strapped into his car seat, crying hysterically. I told Brian that he was scaring the child and to go away and leave us alone. He was laughing. I couldn’t move the car as he was blocking us in.
There is a taxi rank at the corner of the pre-school building and Brian was also blocking the taxi drivers who were trying to get up the hill. One taxi man interrupted Brian by rolling down his window and asking us if everything was OK. Brian apologised and said he would move his car.
As soon as I had a clear run, I sped off straight to Finglas garda station. Brian drove off. I reported the incident to the gardaí and I insisted that it was logged in the station’s logbook. The garda promised me that he would caution Brian at the house in Kilshane. I don’t know if he did or not. I hoped that he did, as I wanted to have some faith in the gardaí. I felt that I had not had their support in the past and I knew that I needed them to enforce the safety order.
I went back to Mary’s house and waited for her to come home from work. When she got home I told her about the incident with Brian. She was fuming. I told her that I had reported it to the gardaí and made the young garda record it in the logbook. Mary wasn’t happy with that; she thought Brian should have been arrested for breaking the court order and harassing me. She called Finglas garda station. A female garda answered the phone and Mary explained what had happened, insisting that Brian be picked up and arrested for breaking the law. However, the garda told Mary that there was little point in arresting Brian. She explained that he would simply be held in a cell overnight and then released the next day. This would antagonise him further and he would end up being even more hostile towards me. Mary was furious and hung up the phone.
Even though I felt relief at leaving Brian and felt that I could breathe again, I was also feeling quite down. Brian’s constant interference in my life was playing on my mind. I didn’t know how much more of this harassment I could take. I wasn’t eating or sleeping properly and I was also experiencing panic attacks. Each time I had one it would be just as bad as the one before. I always tried to calm myself down and breathe, but it never worked for me. My anxiety would get worse the more that I thought about it. I often found myself on all fours on the ground, crawling around the house in a state of utter fear. At times I thought that I was having a heart attack. I actually felt as if I was going to die. I remember Robyn used to get herself into an awful frenzy when she saw me having a panic attack. Sometimes even small things could act as a trigger, for instance, worrying over a bill or being late for an appointment. Something as small as that could trigger the underlying problem: fear. When I look back, it is clear to me that I was suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder. What I had gone through and escaped from was going to take a long time for me to come to terms with. Even though I no longer lived in Kilshane, I was still affected by all that had happened there.
I remember on one occasion Mary accompanied me on a visit to see a Free Legal Aid solicitor. I wanted to know what my rights were. I collected Mary from her house and we drove to the office. As I parked the car at the rear of the building, I could feel the panic rise up inside me. I pulled at my jacket and thumped my chest as I could feel my breath shorten. Mary had never seen me have an attack before. Thankfully, she took charge of the situation and she soon managed to calm me down. That attack had only lasted a couple of minutes but they could go on for a lot longer.
Another time, Mam collected me in a taxi and the driver actually thought that I was having a heart attack. He was so concerned about getting me to hospital fast that he sped along the bus lanes, dodged traffic and cut corners.
I visited my GP about the attacks. She was reluctant to give me anti-depressant tablets, but wrote a prescription, just in case. She gave me a short course of medication, as she didn’t want to look on my condition as long-term. I ruled out the idea of counselling, as I prefer to deal with things in my own way. However, I obviously wasn’t coping well. I took the anti-depressants for two days. I didn’t like the way they made me feel. I felt that I was reacting slower to people and events. It seemed as if I had no control. I decided to stop taking them and went back to my GP. She prescribed a week’s supply of sleeping tablets. They helped me to relax but left me with a groggy feeling and a bitter taste in my mouth. I didn’t ask for a repeat prescription.
Another month or so passed and I was back in the courts with Brian. Brian had applied for access to Conor and I was trying my best not to let him near my son. My sister accompanied me that day. Brian was accompanied by Amanda Joyce. That was an interesting morning, as the two shot smarmy looks at us. Mary wasn’t at all unnerved by either of them. I just wanted to get it over with, because every time that I was in the presence of Brian all the horrible memories that I had came flooding back. We were sitting in close proximity to one another. I laughed from time to time as I watched Amanda Joyce looking through a bridalwear magazine. She deliberately positioned it so that I could see. I don’t know what rubbish Brian was feeding her, but I had bought the T-shirt and worn it. There was no way I would be running out to buy a wedding dress. She would soon discover the true Brian.
We had the same judge again that day; I was delighted. Brian had already received the maximum safety order the last time. I hoped the court would come down on my side again this time. We were called into the courtroom and Mary and Amanda had to remain outside. I knew that Brian would want Conor to spend some weekends with him at the cottage in Kilshane. I prayed to God that he wouldn’t be given access to Conor. After all Brian had already broken the safety order just two days later, on 15 March. I was concerned for the safety of my child, and I believed Brian was dealing drugs and that he
was taking them. I was really concerned about Conor’s welfare, especially if Brian was allowed to have him at weekends.
Brian was granted temporary access, which would be for four hours on a Saturday afternoon. I had to nominate someone to supervise the access for those four hours. The only person available to me was my mam, but I had to agree that she would supervise the visitation without her prior agreement. The rest of the family were taken up with work commitments. That was the ruling that day: Brian got four hours at the weekend and it was to be supervised by my mam.
When I got home to Mam’s house and explained the situation she kindly agreed, and I volunteered Robyn to accompany her. I would feel better if my mother was not alone with him. Robyn agreed to accompany Mam as she also distrusted Brian. She knew what he was capable of. Robyn told me that she was concerned about her elderly grandmother being there with Brian for that amount of time each week. She felt that my mam would be quite vulnerable if she were left alone with him.
The first few weeks went well, though on a number of occasions Brian did not show up. I would drop them to Omni Park in Santry to meet Brian. I often got phone calls from them asking me to collect them as he hadn’t showed. I kept a diary of every no-show Brian did as he had always done: he pleased himself. It was clear to me that he was not bothered about Conor. He just liked to cause trouble for us. It was another way for him to feel that he had power over us and that he had got his own way.