Chapter 3

Mike had tried, and as it turned out so had Catherine, to get Claire to go to the police and social services while her bruises were still visible but she adamantly refused. She was just too frightened that her children would be taken away from her. It worried Mike.

That night, after the pantomime and after the children had gone to bed. He started in on her again.

"At least let me take you to my solicitor and get you to swear an affidavit," he begged.

"What for?" she said suspiciously.

"In case your husband cuts up rough about you leaving him."

"No police?" she persisted.

"No police. No social services."

"Well..." she said and he hoped she was weakening.

"And Shania as well."

"No!" Once more she bridled.

"Won't you at least ask her?"

"Have you been talking to her?" Once again the suspicion. He was getting tired of it.

"Claire," he said rather sharply. "I keep my word. The children are yours. Your older daughter has, like you, been abused. I'm suggesting she swears an affidavit so that you have more ammunition if your husband tries to take the children or to have unsupervised visiting rights."

"Will he?" she looked surprised.

"He might, so doesn't it pay to have some evidence in case the worst happens?"

She thought for a while.

"OK," she said.

"And Shania?"

"If she wants to."

Shania did want to. So on the Monday Mike phoned Victor Rushworth, his lawyer. Victor was a friend and handled all Mike's legal work for the company so he was willing to fit them in that morning.

He saw Claire's and Shania's bruises and also saw the photos Catherine had taken, then he signed a statement and his secretary countersigned that they'd seen the injuries that day. Then they took the two through their stories and he notarised them. Claire got a copy of everything and the originals were kept in Victor's safe. Mike had put the digital photos on a CD, and so Victor kept a copy and the film. Victor's secretary did a fine job of entertaining the two younger children.

Mike needed to go to the office to check on the running of the programme, so he dropped the family off at the house and drove back to town. He bought two child car seats and had them fitted by his garage which, like the shops, was open for business, while he worked at the office. Mike was one of their best customers. All was well with the programme that was running, and he returned to the house to find uproar.

Claire ran out to the car before he had even brought it to a halt.

"It's been on the news," she rushed. "Gary's been to the police to report the children and me missing. The police are looking for me."

She was frightened and in fact she was shaking with fear. Mike held both her arms above the elbow and looked her in the eyes.

"Claire," he said. "Listen to me. This means we have tell the police where you are."

She trembled at that so he continued at a pace.

"Not right now. You stay in the house for the rest of the day while I contact Victor and see what has to be done. I know one of the high ups in the local force and he owes me a favour. We'll keep you safe."

She relaxed at that, and they went inside. It was clear that Shania knew about the broadcast for she looked scared but the two younger ones were oblivious and were playing happily.

He phoned Victor.

"Yes," Victor said. "I've seen the news. Gary Sonter sounded worried and unhappy, very much the abused and deceived husband. We'll need to be careful around him. Have you been in touch with Liam Truscot?" Liam was a Chief Inspector with the local police whom Mike had mentioned to Claire.

"Not yet, he's next on the list."

"Keep your head down, I'll contact him and explain."

Mike put the phone down. Claire was standing in the doorway, looking worried. He brought her to the kitchen and they sat down to a pot of tea. She was searching Mike's face.

"Claire," he began. "There's no way round it, you'll have to make yourself known to the police in person tomorrow."

She stiffened, "Are you trying to run my life for me again?"

"No," he said. "It's what Victor just said. You can phone them and they might come to you."

"Well, I don't want to involve the police."

"It's out of our hands, if we don't inform the police and they find you, Gary will be informed and your cover will be blown. Victor needs to contact the police for us. He'll tell them of your affidavits and the abuse. That way, they'll call off the search and your whereabouts will not be revealed."

There was a silence and he could tell Claire was processing the information. Then she spoke.

"I'll have to go and see Gary."

"What?" Mike gasped.

"There are papers. Passport. Marriage certificate. Council Tax statement. I need them to get my mail forwarded. I left them behind. I've got to get them."

"It's too dangerous, Claire," he begged. "Look what he did last time."

"Mike," she said, and he could see how resolute she was. "He's my husband; we've been married a long time. Before Ryan was born we had lots of good years. He's only started drinking and beating me up over the past four or five years."

"But you've said you're going to divorce him!" Mike exclaimed totally puzzled.

"It's only fair I tell him to his face," she said doggedly. "He deserves that at least."

"But Claire," Mike pleaded, "He beat you up, it's dangerous."

"Mike!" she snapped at him. "You said you wouldn't interfere with my life and now you're trying to interfere. Don't. I'll lead my own life. I'm going to see him. If you want to cut up rough perhaps we need to leave."

Mike sat there amazed. He had found her and her children, and had played the big powerful protector. By implication she was the poor weak victim, didn't her bruises and her demeanour prove it?

Now he realised he was wrong. She was strong, she was stubborn and she was right. Mike had told her he would not interfere and he had tried to do just that. However grateful she might feel, she was not going to relinquish her newfound independence. She would put him in his place if he needed it. He began to admire her spirit, and to entertain a little more respect for her, and perhaps something more.

His silence was beginning to unsettle her.

"It's OK," he reassured her. "I apologise. You are right; I have no business interfering in your life. It's just that..." he fumbled for the right words. "In the short time I've known you I've ... Well, I worry about you; I care and I'm afraid he'll do you more damage."

"Mike," she smiled then, and her eyes took on that beautiful look. "The only time he's been violent is when he's been drunk. He's always sorry afterwards. He begs my forgiveness and always tells me it will never happen again but we both know it will. This time it's different. He's assaulted, punched and kicked his own daughter. That finishes everything between us."

There was a look of steel there. Mike knew she spoke the truth.

He shrugged his shoulders. "But when you tell him that–"

"Don't worry Mike," she said gently. "I'll tell him I need a little time away after the last beating. He'll go along with me if he thinks there's a chance I'll go back eventually."

"But you won't?"

"No."

Mike must have looked relieved for she smiled lovingly at him. Yes, it was lovingly, he was sure of that.

"Thank you for worrying about me. I really do appreciate it. You're the best thing that's happened to me in a long time."

"Just make sure that you put me in my place when I get out of hand." Mike said, as sternly as he could muster.

"Don't worry about that either," she said with a happy touch of grimness. "I certainly will!"

"When do you want to go?"

"Now?"

They loaded the children into the car, Claire exclaiming with pleasure at the child seats, and he drove her to town. She wanted to get the bus to her place. Mike suspected it was so he would not know where she lived, but he said nothing. He had learned not to interfere. He drove the children back to the house.

When they were safely indoors, Shania cornered him.

"Mike, where's Mum gone?"

"She's gone to see your father."

"What?" she shouted. "Are you mad? After everything – you let her?"

"Shania," he said patiently, "I said I would not interfere with your lives. Your mother knows what she's doing. She convinced me it will be safe."

"He'll cry and beg and she'll go back to him," she spoke with resignation. "He's done it before."

"Not this time, you've seen to that."

Her dumfounded expression demanded further explanation.

"He's assaulted you, punched and kicked you."

He could see that she realised then that there would be no going back to her violent father.

"Shania, don't get the idea I'm happy she's gone. I'm worried sick, but she would have gone anyway."

"I know. My Mum's stubborn as a mule!" They both laughed, it bonded them further.

Claire arrived three hours later, having got the bus to their nearest bus stop and walked the twenty minutes to the house. The day was cold and bright and her face was ruddy when she came through the door. She had a triumphant smile as she put down her bag and shrugged off her coat, scarf and hat.

After welcoming hugs and kisses had been given and received from her children, she beckoned Mike into the kitchen and they sat down at the table. The children were in possession of the living room and Shania of the study.

"No problems," she said without preamble. "He did his usual weeping and begging. Asked where I was living and where the children were. I gave him a good talking to and said I was safe and so were the children, but after hitting Ginny and Shania, I wouldn't tell him. You know, he never noticed my new coat?"

Mike smiled and raised his eyes heavenward. "Men!" he muttered and she laughed.

"Did you get your papers?" he asked.

"Yes. No problems there. He didn't notice me take them. I told him I'd be collecting some more of the children's clothing and stuff in the next few days. He begged me to go back but I told him I needed time to think. He could see what he's done to me this time and he didn't try to persuade me any further."

She was fully relaxed at last and so was Mike.

That evening he received a phone call and Claire received a visit.

The phone call was from Mike's mother, saying how delighted she was he'd found a nice lassie, and telling him to bring her and her children the next day. No argument. He said he'd ask Claire and get back to her.

The visit was from Liam Truscott. He sat in the living room while the children played around him. Mike went to find Claire.

She was apprehensive as she entered the room. Liam stood and smilingly shook hands with her.

"I called to tell you not to worry, Mrs Sonter," he said, as they all sat down. "You don't have to go to the station, I've come to you. We know about the violence and your whereabouts won't be revealed to Mr Sonter. He may demand to see the children at a later date but getting that sorted out will take weeks."

Claire mumbled her thanks and Liam asked to look at the photos and examined her face. He looked grim.

"Get an injunction against him, Mrs Sonter. Mike here will help you. You need to protect the children and yourself of course."

After he had gone Mike sat her down again. She looked resentful and was obviously prepared for another onslaught about social services.

"I know what you're thinking, Claire," he said firmly. "It isn't that. How do you feel about a short holiday?"

"A what?"

"Well, two days away. Give you a break."

"But the children. I can't leave–"

"Them as well."

He explained the situation. She looked doubtful. He pointed out that there would be lots of friendly people there. She would love his mother and father. The children would be loved to death and Shania would have two teenage boys to keep her happy. Shania heard the latter and joined her entreaties to Mike's.

He could tell Claire was far from certain about it but gave in gracefully after he pointed out that New Year celebrations in Scotland were something to experience, and packing got under way for an early start the next day.

Now Mike had driven all over Britain and Europe, and even in the States, but always with adults or alone. He was not prepared for the experience of travelling with a full car, half the occupants being children. It was by turns frenetic, ear-splittingly loud and argumentative.

However there was much laughter and many travelling games. Mike mentally put Claire on the highest pedestal for her ingenuity in thinking of all sorts of games for the family to play to pass the time on the boring motorway. The woman was a marvel; how her husband could treat her so badly was a mystery to Mike.

One other thing. They had to stop at practically every motorway services for toilet breaks! It made a three and a half journey into a trek of over five hours.

The two days passed in a whirl and very, very happily. Mike could later remember little of it, but some things were firmly printed on his memory with loving wistfulness.

One was how Shania shamelessly played tricks on her mother. "Mother, Mike tells me I'll be sleeping with the two boys in a big double bed. That all right?" Claire's face was a picture, until her daughter's impish grin gave her away.

Another was Claire's welcome. Mike's mother was a large woman, generous of size, of spirit and of love. Claire did not have a chance; she was enveloped in two big arms and crushed to a pair of ample breasts. She emerged looking dazed and happy – content, Mike thought.

Shania laughed when Mike got the same treatment until, that is, Mam saw her laughing and repeated the exercise. Shania was still smiling broadly when she emerged. Then the two young ones wanted their share and everyone was Mam's adopted child.

Shania was the focus of certain male attention. The two sons of George and Mary, Brice sixteen and Gordon Fourteen, took to her immediately and she to them. Mike remembered finding the three under the mistletoe engaged in learning about the finer arts of kissing. It was an education they endured with complete dedication.