Quadriplegic love lasts and I was about to find out just how long.
It was May10th 1999 and I had only been working as a taxi driver for a few days when at my local rank several drivers wandered over to introduce themselves.
I drove home to my very drunk and unpredictable husband. He looked up at me from his chair, “Dropped your lover and his bird off have we? I’m sorry, but there it is.” He freaked out, “I knew it, you’re fucking him aren’t you, that baby is his, isn’t it, that bastard slept in my house, drank beer with me, and all along you and him were fucking each other behind my back! I need you to find Mark and get him to hospital quickly, may not be much time, I’ll keep ringing around, just get there quick, and safely, ok?
” I looked at him, “George, it’s over, I don’t love you. Well, he can have you, I don’t want you, after he’s had you, dirty little slut! ” I was dressed in a shot, my heart pounding, crying and praying to who I don’t know.
Kathy, Mark and his girlfriend Louise, plus another driver and his girlfriend all went out to a local pub/club. As they got out of my car Steve said I should get there 20 minutes earlier than they had asked me too, and text him when I got outside.