by Fleur Beale
The pressures on Phil mounted steadily as Neville demanded more and more money. The business could no longer meet these increasing demands, which put Phil in an invidious position: his father wanted the money and it was Phil’s duty as his son to provide it. Phil dealt with the problem by sending fictitious invoices to Clive Bilbie who, in good faith, paid the money into the community’s account. Phil would then try to get the orders, in order to pay Clive back.
Phil was pulled between guilt at cheating his friend and fear of his father’s wrath if he didn’t provide the money Neville demanded. He worked every available minute, but the stress of the situation never eased. He knew that once a bogus invoice had been made good, his father would come demanding more money and the cycle would begin again.
Neville’s rules governed every aspect of life, including how to bring up the children. He ordered that any child wetting the bed was to be put immediately into a cold shower, and the next day, instead of eating the evening meal, was to sit on the stage with his or her back to the entire community while they ate. Phil was horrified and stood up to his father about it in a men’s meeting. Neville told him to sit down and shut up. ‘Just because you’re my son, it doesn’t give you the right to question my authority.’
Phil didn’t argue – there was no point – but he was determined that his kids wouldn’t suffer such inhumane treatment and told Sandy they weren’t going to obey the rule and they simply wouldn’t tell Neville if any of the kids wet the bed. However, one night Phil came home late for dinner to find Israel sitting on the stage with his back to the dining room.
The prime reason for the rule, Phil believes, was to humiliate the parents, but the sense of shame for the children must have been enormous.
Sandy had felt compelled to tell Neville, and there was also the tell-tale sheet to explain, because Neville always asked the laundresses to tell him who had sent wet sheets to be washed. Phil started washing their sheets himself, and told Sandy that never again would one of their children be punished for wetting the bed. He knew that although she didn’t say so, she was relieved.
Sandy’s mother Naomi recognised the strength of her daughter’s convictions but thought she was loyal to a fault.
But as time went by, Phil had even less to spend with his family as Neville’s demands for money continued. Phil was manipulating the money, trying to appease Neville, and becoming increasingly guilt-ridden at lying to the friend who trusted him.
One day he went looking for his father to talk to him about a business matter and found him in bed with Gloria and a couple of the teenage girls. It made Phil sick to his stomach. Phil was fairly certain that Neville didn’t go so far as to have intercourse with the girls, but he was certainly using them sexually. Phil also hated that his father was dishonouring Gloria, and knew that she must be in torment over what was happening.
However, it was a simple thing that made him take stock and question it all. He was driving back from Picton to the community and stopped at Kaikoura as he often did because he loved the sea. He’d just sit and look at it, or wander along the beach for a bit. He found himself watching a crab in a rock-pool and thinking that here he was, working all the hours he could, and he’d never be able to take his kids to the beach when he wanted to and let them find a crab. What was it all about? Who was he really working for? He had no answer, but it was another defining moment.
He got back home, unsettled and no closer to solving his problems. There was no respite from Neville who demanded yet more money: $100,000 for another building project.
Phil made up an invoice. Within 24 hours, Clive had put the money in the community’s account and Phil just hoped he’d be able to make the order. Two or three days later, he broke. It was too much, trying to live with the pressure of the lies, having to make money and working so hard he never saw his family. All this in the name of Christianity, of God? He didn’t know any more whether there even was a God.
Phil wanted out.
He didn’t have a plan. He couldn’t think beyond the fact that he needed to go. He decided to take Israel with him, both for the company and to show at least one of his children a bigger world than the one they lived in. He rang a friend who agreed to pick them up from the main road, and left a note under his office phone for Sandy and his father.
He drove one of the vans down to the next property and left it there in the gateway. For seven-year-old Israel it was all a huge adventure. He was going on a trip with his dad who was making it fun as they waited for their ride. ‘Let’s play a game, son. Every time we hear a car coming we’ll hide in the grass.’
Israel loved it, but Phil was asking himself why a grown man would need to hide from his own father, and yet he knew. It was fear of being caught: fear of the men’s meetings. He wasn’t thinking that he was leaving for good. He just needed to get away from the pressure of living with the deceit he’d created.
The friend picked them up and drove them to Christchurch Airport. This foray into the outside world entranced Israel. The driver of the car wore a jacket made of leather. He smelt different from anyone Israel had encountered before. It was scary, but he was with his dad so he felt safe.
The friend gave them the tickets he’d booked and only a couple of hours after Phil had rung asking for help, they boarded a flight for Wellington.
Israel was deeply impressed that his dad knew all these people on the outside – that he knew where to go at the airport and what to do. The plane trip astonished him because he was given lollies and little packets of nuts. Wellington amazed him, too, with its tall buildings and all the people such as he’d never seen before.
They went to stay with Clive and Sue Bilbie. Phil confessed to Clive what he had done, and told him he wanted to sort the mess out. Clive understood the pressures Phil had been under and agreed to give him time to do it.
A few days after Phil’s departure, Neville sent his daughter Charity to Wellington to reason with her brother. Phil let her take Israel back but he himself refused to return, despite her efforts to persuade him.
Phil was the eighth of Neville’s 15 children to leave the community. Faith, Mercy, John, Michael, David, Daniel and Christian had all left earlier. John left his wife and children behind.
Phil veered between euphoria at being away from the community and fear that he’d never see his family again, but he couldn’t go back to that small, caged world of work, conformity and meetings. To go back would be like a butterfly going back into its cocoon. For the first time in his life he felt free. It was November 1989. He was 27 years old and ready to fly.
CHAPTER SIX: EXTREME MEASURES
I forsake any family members … who would in any way influence me contrary to the commandments of Christ and his Apostles, and contrary to the way of life of the Church at Springbank.
WHAT WE BELIEVE, P. 24
Although Phil decided almost immediately that he wouldn’t go back to Springbank, he wanted to clear up the financial mess he’d left behind him. He asked Neville to let him keep working for the community until the money was paid back. That way he might be able to keep in touch with his family, too. But, true to form, Neville refused to have anything to do with a son who broke the rules. ‘We don’t need you. You got us into this mess. We’ll get ourselves out.’
Clive hadn’t wanted to take the matter to court, but Neville’s intransigence left him with no alternative.
Around this time Gloria became ill. She’d been suffering from headaches but now she became mute. Neville rang some of his eight children outside the community, blaming her illness on the shock of Phil’s departure. Phil didn’t believe he was the cause of his mother’s illness but not being there to help and comfort her added to the pain of missing his family. One of his sisters still at Springbank stood up to Neville and insisted on her mother seeing a doctor. She was diagnosed with an incurable brain tumour and hospitalised. Neville took her back to the community to be cared for.
Faith rang her father to ask his permission
to visit her mother in hospital. His reply was typical: ‘No, and why would she want to see you?’
The boys didn’t ask; they just went. Gloria was very happy to see them, but she became agitated for fear that Neville would come and find them there. She lived for another 12 months, dying the following year in March 1991 at the age of 57. None of her children who had left the community were allowed to go to her funeral. Michael heard of her death only after she had been buried. He went on a rampage through Christchuch, smashing plate glass windows with his bare hands.
Now that Phil was out of the community, his own family was constantly on his mind. He rang them every night, but he had no idea what he was going to do about them. Neville applied pressure wherever he could. One night Sandy rang Phil to say that Crystal needed glasses but there was no money to buy them. For Phil, it was a very clear message from Neville: It’s your fault that there’s no money and look what it’s doing to your daughter. Knowing what his father was doing didn’t lessen the guilt he felt at his daughter being deprived of something she needed.
It was a cunning move on Neville’s part because he knew Phil would tell Clive who might then be more lenient about the money. Clive, though, was keen to work out a solution. He arranged a meeting with Neville, offering him a deal whereby the community would supply him with $100,000 worth of stock over the next six months. Phil felt relieved; it was a generous offer because the community would only have to find about $30,000 for the materials. But again Neville rejected it. Clive had no choice but to take the matter to court.
Over the next 12 months, Phil watched the thriving company he’d built up dwindle and die. None of the people he’d built relationships with were prepared to deal with Neville who demanded that things always be done his way.
Shortly after the meeting between Clive and Neville, Phil’s efforts to maintain a relationship with his children suffered a blow. One night when he rang, Sandy said, ‘There’s someone here who wants to talk to you.’
It was one of the leaders who said, ‘It is in the best interests of everyone for you to have no contact with the children any more.’
Phil was utterly devastated, seeing it as another of his father’s games of control, as if he was waiting for Phil’s next move. What would his son do? Where would he take things from here? But it wasn’t a game for Phil. These were his children and he would not allow his father to deny him access to them. He decided to get them out. But he couldn’t simply walk in and pick up the kids. He knew that one way or other, Neville would prevent him. The only chance of success lay in abducting the five of them in a midnight raid. He wouldn’t be able to take Sandy at the same time, but he reasoned he’d have a much stronger chance of her coming out later if he had the children.
In December 1989 Phil left the Bilbies’ home where he’d been living since leaving the community, and went to Christchurch where he worked on the abduction plan for two weeks. He was careful, checking every last detail, knowing he’d only have this one chance. If he bungled it, he knew Neville would hide the children from him, deny that he knew where they were, and make sure Phil never got to see them again. Phil also knew his father would have the means and the power to do this successfully.
Phil enlisted the help of his friend Mark and his brothers John and David who had also left the community. Since he’d helped build the accommodation blocks, Phil had the advantage of knowing the layout by heart, and he planned to switch off the electricity mains to help with the getaway. He knew, too, how Neville’s mind worked and he suspected his father would have moved the family to different rooms. He had an older friend inside the community, a strong-minded woman who still acted according to her own conscience, and he knew she would tell him where his family were. Through her, he learned that Neville had moved them to two small rooms, with Sandy and her mother Naomi sleeping in the inner room, and the children in the room that led off a courtyard.
It couldn’t have been better for Phil. The driveway ran past the rooms and it would only be a matter of jumping a fence, stealing across the small courtyard, and entering the building. He didn’t think the courtyard door would be locked because the community never locked its doors, but he couldn’t be sure Neville wouldn’t have changed that rule and he’d forgotten to ask his friend.
The four men drove two cars to the community at midnight. It was a risky venture and Phil kept hammering the point that this was their one chance: bungle it and he’d lose his kids forever. He was very focussed, very determined that this would work. The moon was nearly full and the night much brighter than he’d reckoned on but there was no turning back now.
It would be too noisy to drive the cars up the gravel driveway so, as planned, they left one parked on the roadside in the shadow of the pine trees on the far side of the road, and pushed the other one backwards up the drive, leaving it outside the children’s room, ready for a quick getaway. Even so, the crunch of wheels on the gravel sounded horribly loud.
Mark, Dave and John waited beside the car while Phil slipped through the complex to turn off the electricity mains. Moonlight would help any pursuers once they got outside, but they’d lose time stumbling about in the darker buildings.
Phil ran back to where the others waited for him. A brief nod, and they were off. Mark waited in the car, ready to take off the moment they had the children. Phil and his brothers vaulted the fence and crept across the courtyard, over the chalk drawings the children had left there.
The courtyard door was shut. Phil’s mind spun. What would he do if it was locked? But it opened. They were in. He stepped into the room, scanning it quickly. The kids were there, top and tailing in the two beds, a blond head at each end. He set about waking them. If they cried or shouted, he was sunk. He shook Israel’s shoulder. ‘Israel. Wake up. It’s Dad come to get you.’ Israel didn’t say a word as his father picked him up, wrapping a blanket around him before passing him to Dave who ran with him out to the car. Now for the girls.
‘Dawn, it’s Dad come to get you.’
‘It’s okay, Justine. It’s Dad.’
‘Tendy, wake up, sweetie. Dad’s come to get you.’
What astonishes him now is that not one of the children cried out or said a word. Israel and Justine only remember thinking, Oh, it’s Dad. It’s okay then. Israel remembers, too, the brightness of the moon as his uncle carried him out to the car.
But there were only four of them in the room. Phil had gambled on all five of them being together, but Crystal wasn’t there, and if he didn’t take her then, he would lose her forever. John and David settled the girls into the back of the car with Israel while Phil went through into the adjoining room where he knew Sandy would be. She and Naomi were asleep in the double bed with Crystal between them. He would have to wake Sandy. If she woke later to discover Crystal missing, and then the others … he couldn’t do it. He put his hand on his wife’s shoulder. ‘Sandy – it’s Phil.’
She woke, startled. ‘What are you doing? What are you doing? You shouldn’t be here!’
‘I know. I just wanted to hold Crystal for a minute and give her a cuddle.’
But the disturbance woke Naomi who realised immediately what he intended to do. She yelled at Sandy not to hand over the baby – that he would take her. But Sandy, trained to be obedient to her husband, passed Crystal over. ‘It’s all right. He’s her father.’
Phil took the baby and ran. Naomi leapt out of bed and grabbed hold of his arm, hauling him back. David tore through the door, shouldered her out of the way, and the two men raced out, jumped the low fence, piled into the car, and roared off down the drive. Behind them, they could hear people yelling and stumbling around in the dark. The whole operation had taken about two minutes.
They stopped at the second car to let Dave and John out, then all drove back to Christchurch to Faith’s house. Israel remembers being in the back of the car with the other kids, and his father turning around from the front seat with a huge grin on his face. For Phil, the adrenalin was pumping.
/> It was later that the realisation of what he’d done and the enormity of it, hit him. He suffered huge guilt about taking the children from their mother the way he had. He had wanted to rescue them from Neville and the community, but to snatch Crystal from her mother’s arms was another matter entirely. He had betrayed the trust with which Sandy had handed Crystal to him. The only comfort was that he intended to get her out as well. She loved the children and she loved him, a belief reinforced by what she’d said to him that night, how she’d been concerned for him, and worried that he’d get into trouble if he was discovered.
The raid was a success, but Phil hadn’t planned what to do next. He was 27 years old with five children aged from eight years to 16 months, and he had no idea how to care for them. He stayed with Faith and Alan for several weeks. They had nine children of their own but they took him in and worked hard to help him learn to be a good parent. Faith knew exactly what he was in for and tried to prepare him. It had been hard enough for her and Alan when they left with the five they had at the time, but at least they had been together, whereas Phil was on his own. For Faith the question to wrestle with had been what to believe; what was right. For Phil it was how to care for his children.
By now, Faith had worked through her own questions, facing each in turn and applying her formidable mind to finding the right answer for herself and her family. A generous person like Phil, she lived her religion by giving of herself. Her brother was in need so she took him and his family in, extending to him the benefit of her own hard-won experience. She would sit up all night with him, talking, trying to get him to understand what it meant to be responsible for five young children. She and their brother David wanted Phil to get a domestic purposes benefit so that he could stay home with the children, but he wanted to be up and doing.