The Runaway Schoolgirl (8 page)

T
he first couple of weeks after Gemma came back were a bit of a blur. There was so much to deal with in terms of police visits, questioning, counselling, forms to fill in and just trying to get back to normal.

It was incredibly difficult under the circumstances. For a start, our house had become a sort of freak-show tourist attraction. Total strangers would walk down the street and peer in through the windows. It was as if we were Fred and Rose West – people were having a day trip to see the freaky family.

I felt so sorry for our neighbours; they had to endure so much disruption when the media descended on the street. Some of them didn't know what to say when they saw us. We had lived there for 10 years and had a really good relationship with the ones we knew, but all of a sudden there was so much awkwardness. I wanted to say, ‘It's OK, you
can still talk to us. We can talk about the weather, if you like – anything is fine.'

Everything seemed to be such a challenge to get through. On Thursday, 3 October, Gary, Gemma's biological father, was in the papers again. I went online and there it was: a great big picture of him and this message to his daughter: ‘I love her very much, I am so glad she is safe. I'd also like to say that I am not angry with her at all – we all do silly things when we are young without thinking about the consequences.'

My sister Annette phoned Gary's mum and asked her to stop him talking to the press as it was really stressing Gemma out. His mum said she was only concerned about her grandchildren and seemed very unimpressed with her son's behaviour, although she was too loyal to him to say so.

The next time he appeared in the papers, Annette called his mum again and left a message. She never called back, but that was the last time Gary was in the press, so I think she must have stepped in and told him to stop. It's a shame, but we are not in touch with Gary's mum at all now because of this. We used to try and stay in contact, but because of my relationship with Gary, it was too difficult for us to maintain our friendship.

On a more positive note, things were starting to move forward, and on Thursday, 4 October I opened the curtains for the first time in weeks. My next-door neighbour Katrina said it was so nice to see, that it was sign that, finally, things were starting to get back to normal.

Back at home, Gemma continued to refuse to sleep in her bedroom. We had already been thinking about moving, but now it had become a matter of urgency.

I met up with a woman called Lucy from Eastbourne
Borough Council, who explained all our options. I loved the house that we were in and liked our neighbours – even if relationships were slightly strained now – but we needed more space for everyone. Besides, with disturbing letters in the post and strange cars or people standing outside, plus the memories of Gemma's room being searched, it didn't feel like home any more. We had to stay in the same area, though, so that we could be in the catchment area for Sussex Police and Alfie could stay on at his school. Lee and Maddie were petrified but I needed to keep stability in their lives. Emotionally it was incredibly tough but I never kept them in the dark and always gave them options. They were incredible though; they fronted it all and dealt with it. Lucy explained that we could rent somewhere privately, buy with shared ownership or buy outright, but none of the places we saw were quite right. We eventually moved into a new place five months later, but it was a long haul before we got there.

While we were trying to get things back to normal, Gemma tried again to get in touch with Louise and Ben. I knew the two of them really well, of course, but I didn't know much about their parents – other than the fact that they had obviously brought up their children well, as they were such nice kids. So I was a bit surprised when Ben said that he would come over, and then proceeded to bring his mum along with him – I suppose she wanted to check out what kind of woman I was. I felt totally under the spotlight the whole time she was there; it was very disturbing. I've always prided myself in bringing up my children the best way I possibly can, but it was almost as if she was blaming me for what had happened to Gemma. She wasn't the only
one, of course. There was plenty of character assassination going on about me on social media.

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. Clearly 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.

A
s 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.