1 minute read
A fresh start
The police took action as well as alerting social services who in turn alerted the British consulate. Together with the town hall the lady and her children were provided emergency accommodation as well as offer of a longer term protected tenancy apartment.
The BBF was able to help pay for her moving expenses and ensure that utilities were connected and paid for the first three months in addition to paying for some white goods and children’s items. It was enough to give her a new fresh start in a safe environment for her children.
Anne was one of over 30,000 victims of domestic abuse in Spain we are only able to support her and wom en in similar situations with your support and donations. Every penny makes a difference. If you would like to support our work with a donation please visit our website or contact me olaf.clayton@british benevolentfund.org.
Linda Hall
A RECENT New York Times article revealed that 56 per cent US residents wouldn’t use the word gypsy owing to its oftennegative associations. There are fewer reservations about the word in Spain although strangely you now see fewer immediately identifiable gypsies around.
This certainly wasn’t the case in the late 80s when I worked as secretary to a Benidorm businessman. The word businessman is an overstatement as he had lost his moneymaking knack to the extent that I had to send marble samples by express courier to the United States, which played hell with the petty cash. He lived in fear of his mistress, his estranged wife and three grownup daughters, two of whom should have been called Goneril and Regan not that the third was any Cordelia.
A very beautiful young gypsy started to visit the office, which opened on to the street, asking for money. We always gave her something and she dropped in regularly until she was heavily pregnant, later returning, sometimes toting the child. She was always taciturn and it required persistence to learn her name, which she claimed was Maria, but possibly chose at random owing to its anonymity.
Eventually my boss did a runner and I saw no more of Maria until I was walking along Benidorm’s Avenida del Mediterráneo a year or so later. Somebody bumped into me and something brushed my shoulderbag, the sort
