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Prisoner of love

When my man strayed I knew how to keep him under lock and key...


Published by: Polly Taylor & Phillipa Cherryson
Published on: 9th August 2010

On paper, Sean Duke was totally wrong for me. A jack-the-lad with a bad reputation, he was hardly perfect boyfriend material.
But in the flesh…
Striding over to me while I sat on my doorstep having a cigarette, I instantly knew there was something special about him.
He was eight years older than me, but it didn’t matter. His sexy shaved head, self-assured swagger and cheeky grin had me hooked!
‘Hey, I’m Sean,’ he smiled. ‘I live five doors down.’
‘Toni,’ I said, shyly.
He oozed confidence and I was thrilled when he asked me out.
‘Fancy watching a film tomorrow?’ he asked.
‘Love to,’ I smiled.
We spent all night chatting. His daft jokes had me in stitches and, at the end of the evening, he reached over to tenderly stroke a strand of hair away from my face.
Who’d have thought someone so rugged could be so sweet?
‘Can I see you again?’ he murmured softly.
‘How about Friday?’ I whispered back, feeling excited.
But my dad Chez had other ideas. ‘You stay away from him,’ he warned, when I told him who I was seeing. ‘He’s too old for you, and he’s part of a bad crowd.’
Dad knew Sean’s mum Cath – even she admitted her son was bad news. And yeah, okay, he’d done time for petty theft, but nothing was going to keep me from him.
So what if he was a bit of a rough diamond? Maybe I could be the one to polish him…
Friday evening, I had butterflies in my tummy.
‘Dad, I’m off to meet some mates,’ I called out.
‘Don’t be home late!’ he shouted back, as I went out the door.
Arriving at the park, though, Sean was waiting.
‘My dad doesn’t want me seeing you,’ I told him as we hugged.
‘I know,’ he said. ‘He came around last night and told me to leave you alone.’
I couldn’t believe it! Dad had warned him off!
‘Blinking cheek,’ I fumed. ‘Why?’
‘Well, I have been a bit of a troublemaker in the past,’ sighed Sean. ‘But I’m trying to change… I just need someone to really believe in me.’
‘I believe in you,’ I told him.
I couldn’t really explain why – I just knew, under the bravado, Sean was actually a big softie.
Soon, we became inseparable, sneaking out to meet whenever we could to be together.
Eventually, I decided to tell Dad the truth, though. ‘Sean and me are going out,’ I blurted nervously.
He was going to hit the roof!
Instead, he shook his head.
‘It’ll end in tears,’ he sighed.
By now I was 18 – he knew there was nothing he could do. I just wished everyone could see Sean the way I did.
Then, four months into our relationship, things changed.
Suddenly, Sean wasn’t interested in spending time with me.
‘I’m off down the pub,’ he’d say when I asked what he was up to.
He began getting into drunken fights, I wouldn’t hear from him for days. I started to worry his bad boy ways weren’t such a thing of the past after all.
And then a friend pulled me aside at the pub where I worked.
‘I saw your Sean in town the other week,’ said Danielle. ‘And he was busy chatting up some blonde.’
‘She was probably a friend,’ I told her.
‘Mmm,’ she said, raising an eyebrow.
But even though I was defending him, worry niggled at me. Sean had always wanted to see me and now I barely heard from him. Had he moved on, was he too much of a bad boy to settle down?
Then, Sean’s sister Maureen came to see me. ‘You deserve better than my brother…’ she said.
I stared at her, confused.
‘He’s been seeing someone else,’ she blurted. ‘He told me.’
What?! I’d believed in Sean when no one else had – and this was how he repaid me?
That evening, I confronted him. To my surprise, he admitted it. ‘It’s true,’ he sighed. ‘I always mess up.’
‘But… I trusted you,’ I said, fighting tears.
‘Please forgive me,’ he begged. ‘I really want us to be together.’
I needed time to think.
That night, I thought about what Sean had done. Most women would have dumped him, but I still believed we had a chance.
I was the only person in Sean’s life who’d had any faith in him – and I wasn’t going to give up on him now. 
So, I came up with a plan… ‘I’ll give it another go,’ I told him the next day. ‘On one condition…’
‘Anything,’ he said.
‘I want you to move in with me…’ I started.
‘Fine,’ he blurted out.
‘…And you’re only allowed out if you’re with me,’ I finished. ‘That’s the deal. You can take it or leave it.’
‘So, effectively… I’ll be under house arrest?’ he asked.
‘Exactly,’ I told him.
His forehead creased with concentration. ‘Okay,’ he nodded finally. ‘I’ll do it.’
Relief washed over me. We moved into a flat. At first, Sean found it tough. ‘I want to go down the pub with my mates,’ he’d groan.
Anyone would think he was in rehab! In a funny way, I guess he was. ‘Fine,’ I’d tell him. ‘But I’m coming, too.’
His pals weren’t too sure about me hanging about all the time.
‘You need babysitting all of a sudden?’ they’d tease. ‘Something like that,’ he’d mumble.
Little by little, things improved. Instead of complaining about being at home, Sean started enjoying it.
One day, I found him staring at the washing machine, a load of dirty clothes at his feet.
‘How does this work?’ he asked.
I don’t think he’d ever done laundry in his life. But soon I was coming home to piles of clean, ironed clothes. Before long, he was tidying up and cooking dinner, too. I’d created a domestic god!
‘Fancy the pub tonight?’ I’d ask.
‘Nah, let’s stay in,’ he’d reply.
I couldn’t believe the change in Sean – neither could my dad!
‘I never thought it’d work!’ he admitted. ‘But you saw something in him the rest of us didn’t!’
It was true – I’d known a little bit of faith in Sean would bring it to the surface.
Then 18 months after we’d got together, some of Sean’s mates asked him if he wanted to go down the pub. ‘Go ahead,’ I told him. ‘I think I’ll stay here.’
‘Y-you mean I can go on my own?’ he asked.
‘Yes,’ I said, grinning. ‘You’ve earned it.’ So off he went – but he wasn’t out late. In fact, he couldn’t wait to get back to our little home!
Two years after we moved in together, we decided to try for a baby, but I suffered miscarriage after miscarriage – five in total.
This time it was Sean’s turn to have faith in us. ‘Don’t worry,’ he said. ‘It’ll happen for us.’
And it did. Our son Jordan was born at 26 weeks, weighing 1lb 11oz and doctors warned us he probably wouldn’t survive.
But me and Sean kept the faith and, incredibly, Jordan battled through. When he was well enough to come home, I worried Sean might buckle under the stress and head down the pub for a pint.
Instead, he became my rock. We went on to have two more sons – Joshua, five, and Jamie, three.
Putting Sean under lock and key might have been extreme, but he was free to leave whenever he wanted. He just chose not to. Now I know whatever the future brings, he’s in for the long stretch.
Toni Piekielniak, 30, Port Talbot, West Glamorgan