I’m 50, and a year ago my wife left home with the kids while I was away. When I returned, the house …

I’m fifty, and about a year ago, my wife up and left, taking the kids with her. She packed up and disappeared while I was at work and, when I got back, it was as if the place had been hit by a particularly thorough removal companyall gone.

A few weeks back, I received an official letter: application for child maintenance. Since then, the money vanishes straight from my pay. No discussions, no negotiationsjust an automatic extraction. Not even a chance to faff about or be fashionably late, as the cash just leaves before I even see it.

Look, I’m not about to paint myself as a saint. I’ve been unfaithfula few times, actually. I never exactly confessed, but nor did I bother hiding the evidence. Shed accuse me of things, insist she just knew something was off, and Id claim she was seeing phantoms.

And I was no picnic to live with either. Id lose my temper, raise my voice at the drop of a hat. In our house, it was my way or the motorway. If something displeased me, everyone knew it from the thunderous tone alone. I never laid a hand on anyone, but I did lob the odd mug against the wall. Scared them silly, if Im blunt.

Turns out, my kids were terrified of me. Didnt twig until far too late. Whenever I came in from work, they fell silent. Any raise in my volume, and theyd slink off to their rooms. My wife would tread as if on eggshells around me, careful with every word, steering clear of an argument as if it were a pothole in the middle of the M25. I thought that was respect. Now I see it was plain old fear.

At the time, I couldnt have cared less. I thought of myself as the breadwinner, the boss, the rule-maker.

When she finally decided to go, I felt completely betrayed. I thought she was rebelling. So I made another poor decision: I refused to send her money. Not because I couldntsimply to be petty. I figured shed come crawling back, tired out and desperate, as if shed suddenly realise I was indispensable. I told her, If you want cash, come back home. Im not supporting anyone living away from me.

Only, she didnt return. Went straight to a solicitor, filed for maintenance, handed over every last bit of proofexpenses, bank statements, the lot. Much faster than I anticipated, the judge ordered the money to be taken automatically.

Now, my pays trimmed the minute it arrives. Theres no hiding, no clever tricks. Before Ive even imagined what Id spend it on, its gone.

These days, Ive got no wife, and no children under my roof. When I do see them, its awkward and uncomfortable; everyone keeps their distance as if Im an overly aggressive goose in Regents Park. They barely speak. Im not exactly Mr Popular.

Money-wise, Im squeezed tighter than last years jeans. Rent, maintenance, debtsthe whole lot comes out, leaving me with just enough for a pint and a bag of crisps. Some days Im just angry. Other days, Im mostly ashamed.

My sister said, Well, youve made your bed. And to be honest, I cant argue with her.