Escape From Evil - Cathy Wilson [108]
All I could think of were his words on that staircase in Robertson Avenue: ‘If you leave me, I will fucking hunt you down and kill you. And then I’ll kill the kid.’
Oh God, what have I done!
It was the worst evening of my life. Going over and over everything that had happened in the last few years didn’t help, but I couldn’t stop myself. I’d been so desperate to put the past behind me, to start anew, that I’d forgotten that history can always teach us something. My own vanity, that relentless desire to prove that I was free, had blinded me to the truth and now there was a chance my son could be paying the price.
Then, at midnight, there was a knock at the door. Two policemen were standing there and obviously I thought the worst.
‘It’s all right, Mrs Tobin, we’ve found your husband and son. They’re at home, in Bathgate. Your husband has asked if you would call him.’
Bathgate? Now I knew they were safe, I could afford to be angry. What the hell were they doing there? Peter had obviously had no intention of taking Daniel to the park or McDonald’s. As soon as my back was turned, they’d jumped into his van and driven the whole day up to Scotland. Even hearing the policeman’s words, I couldn’t believe Peter had actually kidnapped his own son.
What’s he playing at?
There was only one way to find out. With the policemen standing outside the phone box, I made the call. When he answered, Peter sounded perfectly normal, just as I’d expected. He never got upset or hurt. Only angry.
‘What have you done with my son?’ I demanded.
‘He’s here, at home. He’s fine. We’ve had a lovely day.’
‘That’s not his home!’ I shouted. ‘His home is here with me.’
‘That’s where you’re wrong, Cathy. So I’m only going to say this once. If you don’t come back to me in the next twenty-four hours, you will never see your son again. I promise, we will leave this country and you will never find us.’
That’s it, I thought. He’s won. I’ve got no choice.
I just wanted to sink down to the bottom of the phone box and sob. Then I remembered the policemen. But what could they do?
When I told them, verbatim, what Peter had threatened, there was a sudden flurry of radio activity. Then they told me I had to call Peter back and tell him I was coming ‘home’. I had to agree to whatever he wanted.
At nine the next morning I found myself in front of a solicitor. The radio activity the night before had, among other things, been getting her out of bed and up to speed with my situation. She was like my guardian angel. Just when I needed someone to take control and tell me what to do, there she was, calm and collected and with an answer to everything.
‘I’ve arranged a hearing with a judge to grant you sole custody of your son with immediate effect,’ she explained. ‘I have also requested an all-ports alert around the country. Your husband will be detained if he tries to leave.’
I couldn’t believe how quickly everything was happening, and the scale of it. Out of nowhere, I seemed to have an army on my side. I was whisked in front of the judge and, before I knew it, I had full entitlement to Daniel. From that moment on, Peter was breaking the law every moment he kept my son from me.
After years of being made to feel isolated and alone, it was incredible to have strangers moving so fast to help me. In the past I’d bitten my tongue, worried I wouldn’t be believed. But they all took me seriously. All those other battered wives out there who think they’re on their own need to understand that they’re not. There’s help available, whole battalions of it. You just need to be brave enough to ask for it.
So, within minutes of meeting this solicitor, she’d informed me the whole country was on lock-down as far as Peter was concerned. There were only two problems. One, we both knew that there were many, many worse things he could still do to make good his threat of never letting me see Daniel again. And, two, my custody claim only had jurisdiction