I finally escaped his clutches… But now he’s walking free By Tracey Steele, 44, from Ayr
My knight in shining armour… That was what I thought of Duncan Brown when I first met him in August 2000.
Recently out of a relationship, I was living in a homeless refuge with my two daughters.
Duncan, then 36, was staying there, too, and we hit it off.
‘I’ll look after you,’ he vowed.
Lonely and vulnerable, it was just what I wanted to hear.
A few months on, Duncan got his own place and our relationship blossomed.
Kind and genuine-seeming, I thought I’d met my very own Prince Charming.
Then, a year on, I was at Duncan’s place, helping with spring cleaning.
‘I’ll clean your kitchen cupboards,’ I offered, filling a bucket with water and bleach.
But, as I scrubbed the floor, Duncan became snappy, and we started bickering. Then he kicked the bucket of bleach in my face. I screamed in pain as it burned my eyes.
‘You stupid b*tch, look what you made me do!’ he yelled.
I raced to the sink to flush my eyes with water. In agony, I thought I’d been blinded.
Gradually, my bloodshot eyes became less blurry. But I could barely open them, they were so sore.
‘I’m sorry,’ Duncan sighed. ‘I don’t know what came over me. It won’t happen again.’
He seemed full of remorse, I believed it was a moment of madness.
Soon after, Duncan booked a surprise weekend in Dumfries – hotel, romantic meal…
‘You big softie,’ I smiled. He whisked me away, and we had a lovely day.
Denne historien er fra June 01 2017-utgaven av Chat.
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Denne historien er fra June 01 2017-utgaven av Chat.
Start din 7-dagers gratis prøveperiode på Magzter GOLD for å få tilgang til tusenvis av utvalgte premiumhistorier og 9000+ magasiner og aviser.
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