It's The Feds! It's The Feds! Or The Best day Of My life

Anonymous

And how are you Mrs McKenzie? All right?" Well I've had better Sundays,' I replied as I lit yet another cigarette, Hell! When had I started smoking again? Bummerl Still..., if only that was the worst of my problems. Looking faintly nonplussed the female officer hesitated for a moment then returned to the kitchen. All the other officers had gathered there, uniforms, CID, men with rifles, high held yins, all trying to justify their presence.

The day had started early for me. HE had been out shouting loud enough to waken all the neighbours, if the air pistol waving in his hand hadn't already done so. "Bit of an overkill situation I'd say," said one, a Superintendent, from what I could make out.

"It was a bit." I thought to myself, remembering the numb feeling as I stood in the front garden with my hands raised above my head. The firearms officer had had to shout it twice. Hands Up! I had stared round not believing. There were men in uniform encircling me, police officers all pointing their rifles at me. Again the shout, Hands Up!! After what felt like an hour, (but had probably only lasted a few seconds), the order was shouted "Go back inside! Shut the door!"

That was when my young son had come flying downstairs. Mum! It's the Feds! It's the Feds! I had had to wrestle with him as he tried to get outside to his dad. He didn't understand. But then neither did I.

What was it they had said to me just a week ago when I had gone to them to plead for help? That's right. I had spoken to a nice Inspector. He couldn't help either. "Nothing to go on you see." He wanted to help me, I could tell. But no go. I looked at him and then put my fist over my mouth to stop the scream coming out and left quickly in case it escaped. I did not want them to see me cry. I had had enough humiliation already.

Still, one mystery had been solved. A neighbour had been behaving oddly that morning. Every time I had looked out of the window, Maureen, not a particular friend, had waved to me. I had waved back, but six waves later Maureen was still waving. As if life wasn't weird enough, I thought.

HE had insisted on closing all the curtains but it was a nice morning and I wanted them open. Funny how I had not noticed the hundred or so policemen who must have gathered close by. That's why Maureen was waving of course, to signal the police presence.

Well , it was over now. Wasn't it? I still held my child on my knee (good, this meant I couldn't light up again) and held him tight. I'd held him tight an hour or so ago so he could not see his dad carried off in handcuffs by three, (or was it four?), burly policemen.

This child who, though not understanding, knew to come to his mum when HE hit me, hurt me. HE would not hit while the boy was in my arms, my son, who would not leave me till the threat had subsided.

Now the sergeant I had spoken to yesterday, he had been on my side, had promised to take HIM away. Catch was I would have to file a complaint of rape against HIM. God no! That couldn't be the only answer, please. The sergeant had tried to persuade me and then got angry when I refused to make a formal complaint. It wouldn't stick, and then what? What was the point in setting myself up for even more hurt when HE got home?

(How had I reached this state? When had things gotten so bad? Too afraid to defend myself and my family in case it got worse? How could it be worse?)

At least the sergeant had believed me and would have arrested HIM.

The people who should have helped, well, Care in the Community? Bad Joke. HIS Community Psychiatric Nurse refused to speak to me about what was happening, too busy to come to see HIM, just listening to me crying for help over the phone but not speaking to me. Perhaps I was just too embarrassing.

HIS local doctor had refused to help, not believing what I told him when asking for his help. He told me to go home and speak to my husband and mend my her marriage. Then later he had the temerity to phone me to ask that I countersign to have HIM sectioned.

I am still a bit ashamed of what my response had been, (but only a very little bit).

Strange, HIS Hospital Psychiatrist had responded in much the some way as HIS GP and CPN, unwilling to believe how bad things were. The only exception had been the poor locum who had witnessed how violent HIS temper was and rang me later to make sure I was alright.

My own doctor was not able to help as He was not his patient and could not interfere, but he offered to prescribe Valium for me if I needed it. The kind offer was turned down, the opportunity to take them all at once might become overwhelming I thought. I heard as the police force in the house prepared to leave. The Superintendent sounded as though he was rehearsing his Press Release as he said goodbye. Take care of yourself Mrs McKenzie. Remember we're here to help

Aye Right! Overkill was it? The family who had had their windows shot out and missiles thrown into their living room didn't think so.

At least the beatings and the hurting would stop now.

The emotional abuse too. Funny how that was what hurt the most, would take longest to heal.

And yes, this was The Best Day Of My Life.