BEL MOONEY: My friend murdered a man in broad daylight. Should I keep in touch with her?

Dear Bel,

Last year a friend (of 14 years) murdered a man in broad daylight. It was sudden, brutal and, as the judge deemed, planned, an act of revenge for a wrong she thought the man had committed against a family member over 25 years earlier. She is now serving life.

I went to the sentencing and found the defence barrister’s attempts to mitigate and the prosecution’s case for increasing the statutory sentence fascinating, but listening to the victim’s family impact statements was harrowing.

I had to agree with the judge’s summing up when sentencing her to a minimum of 24 years. When she is released, if we are still alive, we will both be in our 80s.

It is difficult for me to discuss this with friends. Murder is seen as black and white in most people’s eyes. However, the person I knew had no indication of being violent and unstable — this would have been a red light to me as I find unpleasant people disturbing.

I will add that I grew up in foster care and have known many damaged individuals in my past, but this feels like a seismic shift from good to bad with nothing in between.

She was well liked, from a good family and loved animals (especially dogs) and nature. She had a supportive partner and has two teenage children who I thought were her world. I can’t get them out of my mind. We attended classes together, mixed socially and she was kind to others.

I can’t begin to comprehend why she did this to another human, her family, his family and herself. It has rocked my normal sense of ‘it will pass’. My equilibrium has been upended.

I understand humans are flawed and sometimes make out-of-character decisions, but this feels like total duality: Jekyll and Hyde. Did I miss some aspect of her character I should have seen?

While waiting for trial, we corresponded. But my question to you is this: would you carry on writing to someone who has been found guilty of a crime so brutal? Or not?

I am torn between thinking corresponding is the right thing to do because she was my friend and it must be horrible to be removed from everything you take for granted.

Or, is it really because I have a need to delve deeper in to her psyche to achieve some sort of closure for myself (selfish, I know)?

Do you have any thoughts please?

PATRICIA


Bel Mooney replies: It’s easy to understand why you are so very disturbed by this terrible situation and find your dilemma intolerable. A sudden catastrophe like the one you describe — destroying two families — is almost impossible to comprehend, let alone come to terms with.

I can imagine the constant seesaw of horror and pity is exhausting and keeps you sleepless. Your friend deprived another human being of life and yet even now you have no idea why that side of her (the part that clearly held a deep grudge for 25 years) surfaced. Why she snapped — and killed.

You wonder whether you ‘should have seen’ this side of her, but how could you? No matter how many books we read, films and documentaries we watch, and real-life stories we hear, we will never feel we have the key to human nature. Because there isn’t one.

When people protest that they would never be unfaithful to a spouse, or steal, or deliberately inflict hurt on another person, I always think: ‘But you might … depending on the circumstances.’

How can we know? New parents can suddenly discover that passion within themselves that would kill to protect their child. But what about when the child grows up? And might we think of a beloved niece or nephew in the same way as our own child? I don’t see why not.

Would I do anything at all to stop somebody attacking my granddaughter? For sure. Have you ever had violent thoughts about somebody who has harmed you or a loved one? I’d say yes.

Who knows what dark, primitive passions lie buried, even for many years, waiting to rise to the surface in an instant?

Look how war turns people into savages. This is not about mitigation. It is why you remain confused that somebody you thought you knew could do such a terrible thing.

I doubt that sense of shock will ever go away. Your question about writing to her is the crux of your letter, but there too your confusion shows.

You don’t actually state what you are torn between; you just question your own motivation. The logical omission, the other part of the quandary, is that you cease contact all together, because of your horror at her crime. I think your first feeling — that you should write because her situation must be awful — is a good one. She is already being punished by the state and by grief for the life she has lost, and (I assume) by guilt, too.

You don’t have to punish her further, nor delve too deeply into whatever convoluted motives for writing.

In your place I would be sure to keep in touch with her partner and children as much as you can. Then I would make my letters as newsy as possible as well as asking her about facilities like the library, asking if she needs things sent in, and so on.

You can deplore her crime yet show kindness to someone you cared about.

Should she wish to confide more about her state of mind, then and now, that’s up to her.

Whether or not to write to a friend of 14 years standing, in these circumstances, is not, in my opinion, a moral issue.

 

My angry husband is foul to me every day   

Dear Bel,

I’ve been married for 44 years to a man I used to love madly but who has turned into the most bad-tempered person I’ve ever met.

He may have always been like this but when young and in love you tend to overlook things.

He is 68 and can never retire as he is a builder and I found out he’s never paid national insurance (NI) contributions so has no pension.

I am still working part-time as a medical secretary. About 12 years ago he had prostate cancer and had his prostate removed.

Since then our sex life has been nil.

He is just foul to me all the time and the reason I don’t leave is because we have two beautiful children whose lives would become a misery as he would lean on them so much if I wasn’t about.

He can’t do anything for himself (even booking medical appointments) so he would be asking them to do it.

We could sell our house and maybe buy a small flat each but he has never had to pay a bill in his life and I worry that the kids would end up picking up the slack for him and I don’t want that for them.

Any advice would be a bonus as I am at the end of my tether!

LINDA  

Bel replies: Your letter reminds me that for many women our default setting is to put our children first, even when they’re adults, at whatever cost to ourselves.

I was warned against this by a distinguished psychologist who reminded me of the importance of a degree of selfishness.

Quote of the week 

What has been will be again, what has been done will be done again; there is nothing new under the sun.

Is there anything of which one can say, Look! This is something new?

It was here already, long ago; it was here before our time.

There is no remembrance of former things . . .

Holy Bible, Ecclesiastes, Chapter 1, verses 9-10

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The late American poet Mary Oliver ends her oft-quoted poem, The Summer Day, with a key question: ‘Tell me, what is it you plan to do / With your one wild and precious life?’ It’s a useful poser for all of us. Sometimes, of course, actual choices are limited, yet mental attitude can still be untrammelled. And my suggestion to you, Linda, is that you shake yours up.

Before that, let’s consider this husband who appears to have been given a free pass when it comes to personal responsibility.

Why? Was it because the ‘young and in love’ person who married him turned herself into a doormat? Why has he never paid NI? Why didn’t you know? Why can’t he ‘do anything for himself’? Why has he ‘never had to pay a bill in his life’?

It sounds as if you have remained married to a spoilt, bad-tempered infant whom you constantly enabled, by overlooking far too much. And that certainly prompts another incredulous ‘why?’

I assume you have considered mental or physical conditions which might be the cause of his permanent ill-humour. I have nothing but sympathy for you in your predicament, but still think you have to do some tough self-questioning. You want to leave, but say the future wellbeing of your family is preventing you. Is that really true? If so, does it imply they will allow him to walk all over them too? Why? Have you talked to them? Or, indeed, to Mr Angry?

Does he know how you feel? Does he care? Is the real issue that you’re afraid of being alone? I want you to write down honest answers to all my questions.

You’re 65 and need to start thinking hard about how to shape the rest of your one, precious life.

Living with somebody who is ‘foul’ to you is a recipe for pointless misery. Since you can’t stand it any more (‘the end of my tether’) you must consider radical change.

Begin by imagining a peaceful life in that flat — not by thinking your first duty is to ‘protect’ your grown-up offspring from their own father.

And finally... age is the gift that keeps on giving  


There are many downsides to getting older but many benefits, too.

On the one hand you can feel horribly tired, creaky, bemoan the fact that your magnificent, tumbling hair is rapidly disappearing down the shower drain, and examine the wrinkles knowing the most expensive, over-hyped cream can never make them disappear.

On the other hand, with satisfaction I can list some of the gifts reserved for age.

Here’s five, off the top of my head.

1: I no longer care what people think of me, or feel I have to do things for the sake of promoting a book, furthering my career, doing my bit for society, or whatever. I’m glad I once did a lot of charitable work, but that’s enough.

2: I don’t feel, as before, that I should really invite that person over to our place, because their invitation should be returned. I only want to be with people I really like or love. Life’s too short for social obligations.

3: IF I want to be as sweary as Catherine Tate’s Nan character, I jolly well will. Being a bit potty-mouthed can really perk you up.

4: I no longer want to travel to wonderful places, because I’d much rather be at home with my husband and Sophie, Hattie and Lily, who sprawl on the old sofa with 12 little legs between them. That’s contentment.

5: It’s such a relief to reach that stage when you feel you really have seen it all before — gasbag pre-election promises broken, politicians hoist on their own petards, passionate beliefs betrayed, shocking proofs of irresponsibility, brainless protesters, ideals dashed, profligate vanity projects… and so on.

The world carries on turning and you say: ‘Open the good wine and let’s make the best of it.’

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Bel answers readers’ questions on emotional and relationship problems each week. Write to Bel Mooney, Daily Mail, 9 Derry Street, London W8 5HY, or email bel.mooney@dailymail.co.uk. Names are changed to protect identities. Bel reads all letters but regrets she cannot enter into personal correspondence.