Hey love, you wont believe the mess I was in a few months back. My husband, Walter Clarke, dumped me half an hours drive about 60kilometres from our flat in the rain, saying he was going to teach me a lesson. I remember hitting the record button on my phone and slipping it into my pocket just as his silver Jaguar pulled up at the old road sign by the ditch. The air smelled like a storm, and he didnt even turn the engine off.
Get out, he said, cold as ice. Maybe a walk home will remind you who youre supposed to obey.
I was 37miles from home, no signal, nowhere near help. He had no idea Id been recording him for eight months and that my brother Russell was waiting nearby, just as wed planned.
Three hours earlier wed celebrated our anniversary at a pricey restaurant. I asked why £8,000 had vanished from our joint account, and that was enough for him to toss me out of the car. By then I already knew the missing cash and the jewellery hidden under the bed were meant for his new assistant, my sisterinlaw Heather.
Ill walk, I said calmly. He smirked, revved up and drove off. As his headlights faded, I headed for the old petrol station where Russell was waiting.
You got everything? he asked.
Every word, I replied.
The recording was exactly what my solicitor, Beverley Hughes, needed. Heather was only a piece of a bigger scam Walter had been shuffling our money into offshore accounts, gearing up for a divorce. That night, though, would be his downfall.
I spent the night in a B&B, posing as a deserted wife. The hotel log would serve as official proof. Meanwhile, Diane, our court accountant, uncovered three more Cayman accounts. By morning the judge had already called an emergency session.
In the courtroom the recording played crystal clear: Maybe a walk will teach you respect. Walters face went pale. Beverley handed over documents showing millions transferred abroad, and just then an officer from the Financial Conduct Authority barged in with a warrant for financial fraud.
A few seconds later Heather stormed in, shouting, You said you were divorced! I have the messages! The judge ordered Walters assets frozen, granted me full ownership of the house, and issued an arrest warrant. He tried to protest, but it was too late.
A month later I received a cheque for £960,000 from the authorities. With that money and the seized assets, we set up the Phoenix Foundation a sanctuary and legal aid centre for women whove suffered financial abuse.
Russell now runs the charity, Diane tracks the scams, and Heather sober and aware now leads the support groups. A year and a half on, the office walls are plastered with thankyou cards from women weve helped.
As the rain taps the windows again, I think back to that night when Walter abandoned me in the storm, convinced hed destroyed me. His lesson turned into my rebirth. He tried to strip me of power, and I became the eye of the hurricane.
