Community Service

I had a proper bit of Eastenders drama on the way home this evening. In fact, it contained all the necessary components for a proper TV row: a domestic (in public); a shouting man; an alcoholic; a wife-beater; a former (double) psychiatric patient; previous police involvement; finger pointing; and a dog. And there were only two people involved!
The row was audible quite a distance away, but until I turned the corner into the road, I couldn't be too sure what was going on. When I did turn the corner, I had that sickening feeling that I was going to have to Do Something. I stood nearby for a second or two, having removed my headphones, to see what was going on (before I walked away from a possible murder or waded into a harmless tiff).
Sitting on the floor, leaning against a short wall - the sort that separates a small patio from the pavement - was a woman, with a small(ish) dog on a lead in one hand and a black holdall on the pavement next to her. Standing over her was a man, screaming at her nose to nose and shaking his hand inches in front of her face.
Her age was difficult to make out. I'd guess that she was in her late 30s, but could have been any age between 25 and 40. She was thin-faced and sallow, with deep sunken eyes resigned to whatever life was going to throw at her next. She had the kind of weariness about her that heroin addicts or prostitutes have, and it wouldn't surprise me if she had been one, or both, at some time in her life. He was older, greying and receding: probably in his 40s.
I was still stuck in limbo; I wasn't going to wade in and risk a beating over someone I don't know. But I wasn't about to walk away and do nothing when this shouting match was going on (I say match, but that implies that both were shouting. He was shouting and threatening. She was being studiously meek, but clearly used to this). So far, I had established that they were married, she was (he claimed) drunk and an alcoholic, this had happened before (frequently) and that she was adept at ‘playing the victim’.
I was not alone in my viewing. A couple of neighbours were standing at their front doors, and some passers-by had also stopped. I guess (as all men in these situations do) that nobody wanted to go in alone. I clearly looked like a good option, because a man from one of the nearby buildings walked up to me and said, "we can't let this go on like this." Agreeing, he, his friend and I walked over and attempted to separate him from her.
To be fair, he was amenable to stepping back; then again, most people probably would be wary of three twenty-something men. It became clear that this was a familiar scene, well practised and oft repeated. She was an alcoholic who caused him trouble, although quite what she did to annoy him such was never made clear. He was a wife-beater with a penchant for strangling her. The police had been involved in their domestics 47 times. She had twice been a psychiatric in-patient. They both wanted the police to come so that they could sort this out. She, apparently, made everyone feel sorry for her by acting weak (but, with a brute threatening you, you can’t really blame her). And all this was established through the medium of shout.
Unlike Eastenders, both were very good at their roles. He was clearly a nasty piece of work, but he knew how far he could push it in public. He did not touch her once, but every jab of his finger or face was dripping with menace. She played meek and mild, but there was something underneath to indicate that she was probably just as unpleasant as him, albeit without the physical threat. Neither of them pushed it too far. Had he touched her, four of us (another having arrived as we moved in) would have flattened him and clobbered him. She kept her mouth shut and didn't retaliate, giving him no reason to attack nor us to stop defending her.
The police arrived within about five minutes; the officers probably knew the couple, and both were well versed in the routine. The police were happy that we were no longer needed, and we all went our separate ways, leaving him on one side of the road with one policeman and her still sitting on the floor with the other.
I bet they'll be at it again before the week is out.