This week we heard Blackburn with Darwen's Women's Aid is in the grip of a funding crisis.

The news won't particularly worry most people in the town - thankfully most of us will never have reason to think much about what the organisation actually does.

But it should.

Domestic violence is something we don't talk about - but it could be your sister, your mother, your best friend, who finds herself at her lowest ebb without a lifeline.

I didn't think about battered wives much at all until a couple of months ago when I interviewed a no-nonsense Blackburn solicitor who had dedicated her career to helping women suffering from domestic violence.

She told me horrific tales of violence and sadistic abuse she'd encountered over the years: men who had beat their wives with hammers, burnt the soles of their feet so that every time they walked they'd experience excruciating pain, monsters who tied their victim's hands so they couldn't protect themselves.

The one ray of light was the dedication of volunteers and staff at organisations like Women's Aid which she told me offered non-judgemental support, advice and help at any time, day or night.

If the service doesn't get the cash it needs this will be lost.

How many bruised and bleeding women will be forced to stick with a violent partner because they know the refuge won't be open for another two days?

It's hard to lay blame.

Women's Aid gets £17,000 from the council, but relies on grants for the remaining £40,000 a year it needs - it's still waiting to hear if it's been successful in securing lottery cash.

I guess the real question is should such a vital service be reliant on the lottery to survive?

The thought that people deciding not to bother with a lottery ticket one week could mean a refuge for battered women closes seems beyond ridiculous. But in effect, that's exactly what could happen.

The sad truth is that services which operate behind closed doors are often hit first because we won't complain.

Sexual health is another victim of such logic - across the country sexually transmitted infections are rising out of control but sexual health services in the North West are woefully inadequate.

Maybe it's because us Brits don't like talking about our business, but the three-week wait you had for the appointment at the GUM clinic just isn't something you moan about over a pint.

Instead we suffer in silence.

Our services are constantly being stretched too thin and it's worrying - there's only so far things can slip before lives are lost.