real life
Theresa White, 42, was packing for a family trip when police turned up...
Putting on my sunglasses, I lay back and watched contentedly as my two girls plunged their spades into the sand. “We’re going to make you a mermaid, Daddy,” they chuckled. I laughed as they began to shovel sand over his feet, and he, good-humouredly, allowed them to carry on until his feet were covered.
It was good for us to spend time with my husband, Dallas. Our daughters loved having his full attention on holiday and we always had a fabulous time. Now I was pregnant with our third child. We’d been married for five years, after meeting on a dating website, and I’d been impressed by his drive and ambition.
But our marriage had experienced some ups and downs.
Dallas definitely liked to be in charge and would make decisions without consulting me. If we went out for a meal, it would be him who’d choose the restaurant. And if he thought we should have another car, he would pick one out without asking me for my thoughts on what to get. His mother lived with us, which also put a strain on family life.
After our holiday I gave birth to a little boy, and watched happily as Dallas became a wonderful father to him as well as our girls.
But when our son was three, in November 2019, Dallas announced that he’d signed a five-year lease on a martial arts studio without even discussing it with me.
I was worried and upset, but he assured me that we could afford the £4,000-a-month fee.
But months later, COVID struck, and we were plunged into lockdown. The business had barely started before it had been stopped. We had a mortgage to pay, a lease on four cars and a nanny. But Dallas repeatedly told me not to worry, claiming he had a plan to solve our spiralling money problems.
Frustratingly, though, he wouldn’t tell me what this plan was.
Two weeks later, I heard a huge commotion of shouting and crushing. Police officers swarmed into our house, grabbed hold of Dallas, clamped him in handcuffs, and dragged him outside. “What’s going on?” I cried, alarmed and bewildered. But the police officers refused to say anything. After they left, I frantically searched our bedroom, hunting for clues to explain why the police had taken Dallas. Rummaging in his gym bag, I found a fake police badge. I was so confused.
The next day, he was released on bail, and I picked him up from the police station. He told me he’d tried to extort £30,000 from the owner of a bar by posing as a police officer. “You did what?” I gasped.
“But why?”
I listened as he told me that we were heavily in debt. Now we faced Dallas being sent to prison, leaving me in debt and the children without a dad. But he reckoned he
