texts: Once a week you like a gentleman? </s> <s> Look, I'm me, right. You're not. We are what we are, like it or not.  Why all the bloody needle? </s> <s> What was bugging Frank?
labels: He wanted me to leave Dave and marry him. Last Friday I told him it wouldn't work. Dave would have killed us both!  He followed me home and kicked up a stink in the street,  I had to tell Frank I couldn't see him any more. It was getting too dodgy. That was on Sunday.  He said he'd kill himself. I was frightened what you might do.