MURDERED BY THEIR DADDY

Julie Engelhorn, 41, begged her young twins to wake up

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The sun shone brightly in the blue winter sky as I ended the call on my mobile phone. It was 2014 and I'd been chatting to my husband Mario, then 47, who was away working in Barcelona.

He was saying that he'd like to spend more time with the kids and me, but as we hung up, a thought popped into my mind: 'I want a divorce, and I couldn't believe I'd left it this long.

I'd first met Mario, a doctor, at a bar in Barcelona in 2005 when I was 23. I'd moved there from the UK after finishing my degree in hospitality and tourism. We'd married in July 2007 and our son César was born in July 2009.

But while I threw myself into being a mum, Mario wasn't interested in nappy changing or bottle-feeding. He seemed to lose interest in me as well, working long hours and staying out late most nights.

Then in 2011, after a moped accident that affected his hand, he had to stop practising as a doctor. Instead, he set up an investment company, and in 2012, we moved to Cape Town, which I hoped would be a fresh start.

EXPECTING AGAIN

At the end of 2013, I found out I was pregnant and an ultrasound showed two tiny babies on the screen. 'Twins?" I asked. The doctor nodded. I was overjoyed, but Mario just seemed shocked.

In August 2013 the twins were born by caesarian. Maximo arrived first, followed by Octavia, and I fell in love with them instantly.

Mario stayed at home for the first month but was moody and snappy and I was glad when he finally headed back to Barcelona for work.

I'd spend ages just watching the twins sleep together. They always slept facing each other, breathing the same air, sharing an unbreakable bond.

I felt lucky, but my marriage wasn't so perfect. And after our phone call that day in 2014, I just knew it was over.

Eventually I told Mario, who was surprised. But I couldn't understand how he'd not seen this coming.