The Runaway Schoolgirl

by Davina Williams

  A similar thing happened with Louise. Although Gemma hadn’t been able to speak to her when we were in the safe house, her mum called me when we were back, saying she wanted the girls to carry on seeing each other. First, though, she wanted to meet me. She was really nice and we got on very well. She told me how the case had affected their family and how angry and upset Louise’s dad had been about everything that was going on. I felt so bad for them. She was lovely about the whole situation, but regretfully Louise’s dad would only let the girls see each other if they had supervised visits.

  We tried to make it work, but it was just too awkward. Louise’s mum tried to give them space when Gemma visited, but there was just too much water under the bridge for their friendship to survive. Louise was really upset that she had been put in a position where she’d had to lie to the police, and some of her classmates had been accusing her of hindering the investigation. Whereas before Gemma could confide everything about her love for Forrest, the terms ‘child abuse’ and ‘abduction’ had tainted the romance. Their friendship just fell apart.

  It was another sadness to add to the list. Not surprisingly, Gemma felt very much alone. She had lost her boyfriend and best friend within the space of a few days. There was so much for her to contend with.

  I wasn’t coping well either; I had suffered from panic attacks when I was with Gary, and once again stress started taking over. I became obsessed with what everyone else was saying about me on social media. It got to the point where I would read it long into the night. Paul was frustrated and worried by how it was affecting me, so I started going online in secret, sometimes even while I was in the bathroom.

  I remember one day I was cleaning the living room and This Morning was on in the background. There I was, polishing the table when Phillip Schofield and Holly Willoughby started talking about Gemma’s case with their guests, radio presenter Nick Ferrari and anti-knife crime campaigner and actress Brooke Kinsella. Brooke was speculating on what it must be like for me as a parent and I started talking to the TV, saying, ‘Yes, you’re right!’ She seemed to be one of the few people who could see sense. It was so bizarre that famous people were talking about me on TV and there I was, watching it and answering back!

  I was paranoid that everyone had an opinion about me as a parent, that they were watching my every move. One day, I went shopping in Sainsbury’s with Gemma and I became convinced that we’d been recognised. My heart started palpitating, my head was pounding and my hands were sweaty. I had to get out of there so I just grabbed a few things, paid and left.

  It scared the hell out of me that I was starting to have panic attacks again. My health had begun to suffer from the moment Gemma had disappeared. My left eye was twitching due to lack of sleep and I started getting migraines; my hair was starting to thin and my Caesarean scar wasn’t healing as quickly as it should have been. I had no appetite; I was totally rundown.

  I started having nightmares that Forrest would escape and come and get Gemma. In my dreams I would have visions of him with his hand over her mouth, dragging her through the front door, and would wake up in hot sweats. I would double-and triple-check that the door was locked, but I couldn’t stop the recurring nightmare.

  It got to the stage where I was afraid to go to sleep. Now I was operating on autopilot, trying to deal with the kids, the home, appointment after appointment. I went on feeling that way for so long that it actually felt ‘normal’ after a while. I only got a chance to speak to the doctor about it the following February – she offered me some sleeping tablets, but I was too scared to take them in case I couldn’t wake up if there was an emergency in the house. Totally exhausted, I just wandered around in a daze all the time.

  Some time later, when Forrest was being held in Lewes Prison, I thought it might help me sleep better if I researched how many breakout attempts there had been and I wanted to visit the place to check out its security. I just couldn’t bear the idea of Forrest laying his hands on my daughter again. The police assured me that he wouldn’t be able to escape, so that was one thing – just about – that I could stop fretting over.

  I had promised the social worker that I would get Gemma checked out at a sexual health clinic. On the day we went there, I remember whispering to the receptionist, ‘Please don’t say her name out loud’, because I was so paranoid that we would be recognised by others in the clinic. Under any other circumstances, I wouldn’t normally have batted an eyelid, but after all that had happened it just added to my paranoia.

  Gemma’s personality started to change, too. Normally so friendly and open, it got to a stage where she wouldn’t talk to anyone. I persuaded her to see Ben, but after an hour-and-a-half, she called me to go and pick her up. It wasn’t that he was telling her that she needed to move on or anything – he was still caught up in the romance of their story at the time – she just couldn’t handle being away from home.

  She was extremely hurt and upset for me when the internet trolls started picking on me, ripping me to shreds about how rubbish I was as a mother and making cruel comments about my appearance. On YouTube, for example, under the video of the police press appeal that Max and I did, one of the comments picked up on the fact that I have a gap in my teeth. They wouldn’t have known, of course, but it was caused by a lack of calcium during pregnancy. A little further down, someone else commented, ‘Cue Jeremy Kyle’, as if we were some terrible family just hungry for fame.

  It was all so cruel. I never chose to be in the limelight. I’m not a celebrity who looks like a model, just an ordinary mum trying to do the best for my kids. Yet no matter how incredibly hurtful the things people wrote about me were, for some reason I couldn’t stop myself from reading them. It became an addiction; I needed to know everything about the case.

  I was also determined to find out everything I could about Forrest. When Gemma first disappeared, I only wanted to know that he wouldn’t harm my daughter and that he really did love her. I blocked out what he had done sexually to my child. Rightly or wrongly, it was the only way that I could handle the situation.

  Once Gemma was back, though, I wanted to know more about him. Who was this monster who had come into our lives and ripped our world apart?

  Paul also wanted answers; he never got as obsessed as I did but his whole world was affected by this man we knew nothing about.

  One day, when we had been back home for a few weeks, I told Paul that I wanted to get out of the house for the evening. I didn’t care where we went or what we did, I just needed a change of scenery. Little did I know, but in the back of his mind, he’d had exactly the same idea as me about where we should go …

  When we got into the car and he asked me where I wanted him to drive, he wasn’t in the slightest bit surprised when I said ‘Ringmer’, which was where Forrest had lived. It was about a 15-minute drive and I remember when we got there, I was disappointed at how lovely it was. Forrest had been there with Gemma and I had hoped it would be horrible and seedy, just as his crime had been. Instead, it was a lovely leafy village with a village green, little shops and country pubs. It was a real gem of a place. Ironically, it was the kind of place that I would have liked to move to, had I been there before. Now, though, it would be forever tainted by his crime.

  Paul and I had no idea which street he lived in and spent an hour or so driving around before giving up for the night. Of course, Gemma would have known exactly where he lived, but we weren’t about to ask her – it would have totally freaked her out.

  That night, we sat in bed and studied an online map. The newspapers had published photographs of his house and given the name of the road where he lived, and the next day, Paul and I set off to Ringmer again. We parked on the other side of the road to his house and just stared at it. This might sound weird, but just by looking at it, it helped us piece more of the jigsaw together. It was a very nice house and Forrest was obviously financially very comfortable. What was sad was that all of the windows had been papered over, presumably by his wife. Cle
arly we weren’t the only ones who’d had to adapt to a different kind of life because of what Forrest had done.

  We still had the press hanging around our house – we had even become sort of used to it – but there was no sign of any press here. Forrest’s wife had moved away soon after the scandal had hit. Now the house was just a shell of the home it used to be.

  CHAPTER 17

  FORREST RETURNS

  As quickly as we were trying to adjust to life as a family again, over in France the wheels had been set in motion to get Forrest back. On Tuesday, 2 October, he appeared in court in Bordeaux for the first time.

  The European arrest warrant stipulated that he was to be extradited to the UK charged with abduction. However, the Crown Prosecution Service was determined to add an extra charge of sexual activity with a minor; the police were confident they had enough evidence to support both charges.

  Forrest didn’t contest the charge of child abduction and said he was happy to be extradited to England, claiming, ‘I am keen for everyone to know the truth.’

  When I heard about this statement, I was confused. Was there something I didn’t know? Detective Inspector Neil Ralph assured me that there was nothing I hadn’t been told, and I assumed Forrest was just showboating for the media. Surely he didn’t have a hope of getting away with his crimes? All the evidence was stacked against him.

  Forrest had hired a team of hotshot lawyers – I later discovered that they specialise in getting celebrities off potential charges on technicalities – and a French barrister to act on his behalf in court. While he seemed happy to be extradited to face the charge of abduction, his legal team challenged the second charge of sexual activity with a minor. They claimed it was unlawful to add an extra charge to the original European arrest warrant, so the court was adjourned.

  Later, after hearing the cases for and against the Crown Prosecution Service’s position, the judge agreed that the additional charge of sexual activity with a minor could be added. No sooner did he allow it, though, than Forrest’s legal team appealed, meaning the case was then referred to the European Court of Justice in Luxembourg.

  We were baffled – we couldn’t understand why Forrest’s team were dragging things out like this. Surely there was no way they seriously thought he was going to get away with what he had done? We all knew he was guilty.

  I suppose, of course, time was money for the lawyers – they were probably rubbing their hands in glee at the prospect of such a high-profile case. I’d been told Forrest had substantial savings and I suspect his parents helped him out financially, too, as I understood they were financially very comfortable, so perhaps legal costs weren’t an issue.

  After going back and forth to court, Forrest was finally extradited to England on Wednesday, 10 October. That night, Hannah got in touch to warn me that the press had taken over streets around the court in Eastbourne and she was concerned they might start pestering us at home again. Paul was working away overnight so I packed a bag for the children and me, and we went and hid at Mum’s place, which is ten minutes away, for the night.

  Forrest was taken to Eastbourne police station, and on Thursday, 11 October he appeared at Eastbourne Magistrates’ Court, where he was duly charged with child abduction and remanded in custody. The police requested to keep him at Eastbourne for a further three days in order that they could carry out further investigations.

  He did not enter a plea of guilty or not guilty, and did not even mention a bail request. I was surprised about this. Previously I had been worried that he might have been granted bail, but it turned out that he had been advised not to even ask.

  It was at this hearing that an Order banning Gemma’s real name from being used in the press was imposed under the Children and Young Persons Act 2008. All of the other restrictions regarding publishing pictures of her or identifying any family members were also put in place.

  I was told that Forrest’s parents came to visit him while he was being held at Eastbourne, but apparently his wife Emily didn’t want to know. The police also informed me that he had refused to say a word to them. They asked him all manner of questions about what had happened, but he wouldn’t confirm or deny anything. I couldn’t help wondering if there was something else up his sleeve that would later come out in court.

  Back at home, Gemma was reading online reports about what was happening with Forrest, but she wouldn’t talk to me about it. She was still very much under the illusion that she was part of some famous love story. Neil Ralph and Sarah continued to share information with her that Forrest hadn’t been quite so faithful to her as he had insisted, but she refused to believe them. As far as she was concerned, it was all lies.

  She was desperate to visit him in prison and said that nobody had the right to stop her. I had to be firm and told her she couldn’t because she was the victim of the case. And she hated that word. She certainly didn’t see herself as a victim – Forrest was her boyfriend and that was that. Gemma wrote to him, but the prison authorities would have intercepted the letters. She was heartbroken about it, but there was no way that she could be allowed to have any contact with him.

  I had to shoulder all of her tears, tantrums and anger. Some of the things that Gemma said to me would have been unforgivable had she been anyone other than my child, but I took it all on the chin. I tried to reason with her and kept her informed of absolutely everything I knew regarding the case. Also, I left the door open for her to contact the police and the social services in the hope that they would make her understand that there was a very valid reason why she and Forrest couldn’t have any contact, but she didn’t want to speak to them.

  The fact that Forrest had left his wife and his whole life in England so that they could be together seemed to mean everything to Gemma. When she was with him in France, she loved the fact that they were out holding hands in public rather than having illicit meetings in secret. To her, there was nothing questionable about their relationship.

  When I saw the CCTV pictures of Gemma and Forrest together, she appeared happy and confident. In a way, I had found that reassuring because it showed that she wasn’t frightened about being with him. But no matter how she felt about him, and even though I knew it was making her terribly unhappy, there was no way she could be allowed to have any contact with him.

  CHAPTER 18

  THE NEED TO TALK

  A week after that seven-hour interview at the police house in Hailsham, Gemma announced that she had more information that she wanted to share with the police. I didn’t press her about what this information was, I just duly went along with her.

  It turned out that she was starting to get angry about what she was hearing about Forrest’s past. She wanted to tell the police that she wouldn’t have started any relationship had she known he was still having a relationship with his wife. She isn’t that type of person and she had believed everything he had told her. She didn’t add anything that would support the evidence the police already had, but she took the opportunity to express her feelings. The interview lasted five hours and I wouldn’t say she felt better afterwards by any means. She was confused and hurt, and the one person she could ask for confirmation in all of this was in prison.

  On one hand, social media was saying she was part of an amazing love story. On the other, she was being told ‘lies’ about her boyfriend. She wanted a chance to put the record straight about the love they had for each other. As before, she once again insisted it wasn’t an infatuation, it was real.

  I had hoped the interview would reveal more information, but it didn’t. The police were very understanding, however. They wanted Gemma to feel comfortable to be able to speak to them.

  At home, things were starting to be fractious between us. I was trying to monitor what Gemma was eating and drinking, and how much sleep she was getting, but I also had to give her plenty of space. She was very defensive if anyone was horrible about me on social media, but there was an increasingly bigger barrier growing between us. Quite honestl
y, I didn’t know how to deal with it.

  Sarah, the family social worker, had been absolutely brilliant with all of us. Gemma was already having sessions with a therapist, and Sarah suggested that the rest of the family should get some counselling as well. It would be a safe, controlled environment allowing us all to speak freely about our feelings. This could only be positive, right?

  It ended up backfiring really badly. We were only a couple of sessions into our therapy when Gemma and Lee took it upon themselves to annihilate me as a mother. It was just an onslaught of the most horrible things. They claimed that I had got together with Paul too quickly after splitting up with Max and that we had decided to have a baby together without thinking it through. They also said I had been working so hard and didn’t have enough time for them.

  It was all my fault.

  I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. We are the type of family that regularly has family conferences if any of us has something on our mind. When I first met Paul, I made sure that I told the children all about him before I allowed them to meet, and we talked about the two of us having a baby with the rest of the children, as a family.

  All these allegations from Gemma and Lee were completely new to me. I wanted the ground to open up and swallow me. It was a completely venomous attack.

  I remember leaving the session feeling totally shell-shocked. No one said a word in the car on the way home.

  I was distraught. When I told Sarah about what had happened, she said she wasn’t surprised at all. She told me that they obviously had so much anger about the way their worlds had been torn apart that they had to deflect it on to someone – and I was a safe person for them to release their feelings on.

  As their mother, there was no way that I was going to stop loving them for what they said to me. There would never be any consequences about what they said and I would never throw it back at them, so in a way I was the natural target. Sarah said it was part of the process that they were going through, but maybe it had been too soon to start counselling. It was still all just too raw.