You're Going to Kill Me, Aren't you?

Seeing blue lights, Melanie williamson, 48, from County durham, thought police were pulling her over. But the man at her window was no officer of the law.. .

- Solde Walters, Cher Heasmer

With a large glass of wine, I settled onto the sofa.

The house was silent apart from the murmur of the TV. I had nothing to do. No-one to talk to. And it was absolute bliss! It was last November, and a month earlier I’d broken up with my hubby Andrew, 52.

After 24 years of marriage, I’d simply had enough.

We’d met as teenagers and had two sons together, Lee, now 30, and Joe, 24.

To begin with, our marriage had been happy.

But over time, Andrew had developed a possessive side.

He didn’t like me seeing my friends and stopped my family from visiting.

He’d accuse me of cheating on him, which was ridiculous.

Our rows were explosive and Andrew would smash up ornaments in the house.

I didn’t want the boys to feel caught in the middle, so I did my best to keep it from them.

Feeling miserable and isolated, I tried to end our relationship several times.

But Andrew would always beg for another chance – and, foolishly, I gave in.

Until last October...when I just couldn’t take it any more.

Andrew wasn’t working at the time but he didn’t lift a finger around the house.

‘This isn’t a life,’ I’d told him. ‘I’m just existing.’

So I’d packed my bags, left the home we shared and rented my own little house.

I’d instantly felt better, like a weight had been lifted.

Andrew started sending me abusive text messages but I’d just ignored him.

Now, set up in my own place, I was enjoying my freedom.

But as I fired up my laptop and logged into Facebook, I spotted something that made my blood run cold.

Andrew had posted a nasty comment on my Facebook page, accusing me of stealing.

It was utterly ridiculous and it angered me that he was trying to blacken my name.

Anxious not to make things worse, I tried to rise above it.