JUNE
JUNE 1ST 1999
Social workers Eva McKenzie and Pat
Williams turned up. “Here we go again,” I moaned. I began to kick off as I usually do with these time wasters until I twigged that they weren’t being
judgemental - they were actually considering the unthinkable. They did not dismiss
my spiritual and spiritualism beliefs and they did wonder if we had been subjected
to some extraordinary power as they surveyed my kitchen with curiosity and studied the surprising one cm deep scorch mark
that the kettle had caused on the sideboard et cetera. I described the distinctive
‘V’ shape that the front of the washing powder box ended up in, which shows where the kettle was touching it. I reasoned that if the fire had spread from curtains to powder box to kettle as is
the suggestion, well, unless they are saying that Andrew somehow caused the kettle directly to ignite, the back of the box
would’ve burnt – but it didn’t. I asked if the experts are
saying that the fire somehow jumped backwards from the curtains and skimmed only half the washing powder to partly destroy
the kettle. I pointed out the untouched food cupboard despite the half mangled
kettle etc and that fire burns upwards.
It was then lovely to hear a bit of
support when Eva butted in with, “Especially as washing powder is highly combustible.” Then I said, “Either way, there is no proof that it was started deliberately and none of us should
be blamed. I find it astonishing that you people are even here. There was a social worker with CID two days after the fire; surely that should be enough. If she had ‘concerns’ why didn’t she raise them then?” Eva felt that home-tuition is a good idea but that under the circumstances it might be an idea to put them
back in school to “shut up criticism.” I told her that that would
be giving in and going against our beliefs and our rights and it wouldn’t be in Andrew’s and Shell’s best
interests. As I showed them the door, I surprised myself by apologising for the
earlier hostilities.
AJ went off with his other mates and
they all turned on Andrew. They were calling him names and kicking him, so Andrew
ran in all het up and shouting that he’ll never be pals with AJ again.
JUNE 2ND 1999
AJ and his mates kept running into
my yard, mocking and hounding Andrew and Shell for a scrap. I heard Andrew chase
them off. Emma started on Shell soon after and before I knew it Andrew and Shell
had darted in, and around twenty kids were milling about outside my house in my yard and on my gate. They were all ganging up against my two, yelling and egging for a fight.
Some started lobbing stones at my windows. I chased outside to shoo them
off but they stood and chanted, “Ha ha; you can’t touch us – police are on our side. You’ll be done for child abuse.” I pulled Andrew
and Shell away from the window and called police, but as usual the buggers had gone when police arrived. I was reminded that I’m not allowed to hit a kid. I
enquired if I’m supposed to just allow a frenzied mob of youths to walk onto my property and beat the lights out of
my kids. One cop said that there would be an enquiry…. “What are
you blabbing on about?” I asked in utter incredulity. “It’d be too late then. I’m not going to
let any scumbag touch my kids. They’re not troublemakers, thieves, muggers,
vandals…. that lot are.” I yelled at him, saying that if the crowd
of yobs aren’t dealt with now, they’ll be lying in wait for my kids and every time Andrew and Shell go out, even
to the corner shop, it’ll be like walking into a pack of wolves for them. But
all he could do was reiterate the rule that, “You don’t threaten a child – it’s abuse. You will be charged – not them.” It’s a bloody scandal that I have to keep the kids inside now and away from the windows. I figured that from now on I’ll just continually call cops and they’ll soon get fed up of me
and then they’ll have to do something.
Later, one of the care workers in
the home next door told me that she won’t allow her daughter to play outside, even in the grounds, because of the street
violence.
JUNE 3RD 1999
Six crows eyeballed the bread that
my little feathered friends were tucking into, so I flapped a tea towel at them and the good birds were left in peace.
At church there was no ‘normal’
greeting from reptile-head, not even to the babies. All he could snarl was, “You
told me you’re not seeing anyone….”. What? I civilly replied, “What I do is not your business.”
Then he started ranting about me sending CID to see him. So I said, “Well
don’t blame me.” Then he started blubbering about suing dad, so I
just informed him that dad was simply trying to recoup the cash that “YOU OWE HIM.”
Lorraine and I nattered. She was going on about the bible being one hundred percent true.
How the heck does anyone know that? What if it isn’t? Aren’t Christians open-minded enough to consider that possibility?
I went for a run and couldn’t
help noticing a sign stating a one thousand pounds fine for dogfouling…. and eight blobs of dung directly under it!
Emma and her gang were flocking around
again asking for trouble and demanding fights. I heard Donna and others calling
their kids in but after only two minutes, they were back out again and up to no good.
This was the pattern until I bowed to pressure from Andrew and Shell and decided to allow them to fight on a ‘one
to one’. I’d listened to their reasoning that they have to fight
back otherwise they’ll always be picked on and I thought [against my better judgment] that if it was done in a controlled
and supervised way [so that things didn’t get out of hand] it might just solve the problem and all the kids would clear
off and find themselves something better to do.
Emma challenged Andrew since she is
just a few months older than him. It was hard to tell who ‘won’ as
it was so evenly contested. But Emma eventually ran off in tears with her supporters. Then the nine year olds slogged it out. Everyone agreed that Shell was the clear winner
as AJ also ran off sobbing. Nobody had any cuts or bruises [thank God] but they
all appeared chastened. I naively thought that they’d now be ‘sorted’
and that the others would realise that Andrew and Shell are not pushovers, but Donna had other ideas. She appeared on my doorstep all up in arms. I tried to explain
that I thought it would stop all the talk about fights if they got it out of their system but that maybe it wasn’t such
a good idea after all. We ended up having a ding-dong and she booted my door
and called the cops on us.
I was threatened with being charged
with “Section one….”. One bobby said, “They’re
streetwise – you’re not.” So I asked, “Does that mean
all the other kids are allowed to do what they please with your blessing, while my kids and I are seen as the criminals? We are the victims. Just cos you lot won’t/can’t do your job you get heavy with the easy targets – the quiet
individuals who just want to be left alone. What a cop out.” He said that if her kids damage my property, I can call the council and they’ll make her homeless. Typical; talk about passing the buck … A lot of these kids hang out in gangs
because they’re scared of each other. No one dares to stand up to the bullies
because they’re scared that the gang will turn on them, and the parents are intimidated by the kids. Individually those kids are timid and can barely eyeball anyone when they’re alone. Cops bleat about us not living in an ideal world but it could easily become one if the law enforcement
bodies DO THEIR JOBS, CUT OUT CORRUPTION AND ENSURE JUSTICE IS DONE.
JUNE 4TH 1999
I stood at the kitchen window and
watched Emma, the lad that I’d walloped off my wall, and a couple of other little sods sneaking slyly down the old folk’s
drive; then they began pelting my windows with stones, bars, mud balls and rubbish.
A four year old then appeared in front of my window, grabbed my bin and tipped it over.
I duly called police who promised to have a word with the parents, but I won’t be holding my breath for any miracles
– they’ve probably told their brats to come bothering us.
Late afternoon, I caught sight of
the back end of a big lad as he boldly strode out of my back door, vaulted over my wall, trampled over next door’s seedlings
and sped off. Andrew gave chase with his toy gun and fired a few pellets at him. I then realised that the friggin git had made off with my loose change that was on
the table. Now I have to keep windows and doors bolted.
JUNE 5TH 1999
I went with the kids to see their
music teacher Alec to find out if lessons could be switched to a period during school hours because the kids are now too scared
to walk through gang-ruled Colwyn Bay. We chatted for ages. He was very sympathetic and it seems has suffered the same sort of problems and he also had to bear similar
injustices. We transferred to a Wednesday morning and I was so happy when he
offered to give the kids a lift in future. People like Alec are a beacon of hope
in this world of hatred and selfishness.
JUNE 6TH 1999
I put my new washing machine to the
test and brewed up with my new kettle and imagined how nice it’ll all look when the walls are decorated, the doors are
finished, the floor is newly tiled…. I joked to Shell that if the fire had been caused by Satan, he must be feeling
pretty cheesed off now since his aim to destroy us and our home seems to have somewhat backfired – he has, in fact,
done us a favour. Shell mocked, “He’s blushing.”
There was an alarming piece in the
paper about Freemasonry in public life and in particular within the police. Figures
in the Ulster security services are protected by Masons. Regarding serious malpractices
of the West Midlands serious crimes squad, it was revealed that eight Masons belonged to the group. Two of these faced allegations of corruption but were never charged or disciplined. Eight Masons and a very high-ranking former Mason were involved in the Birmingham pub bombings investigation,
which led to one of the worst miscarriages of justice seen in Britain. Jack Straw
suggests a voluntary register as a means of identifying Masons in the police. What clap trap. That’s proof if
it were needed that the government are ruled by the underworld.
JUNE 8TH 1999
Dreaded court day today. My solicitor pushed me into giving the slug-head more concessions, as it is supposedly “always a
good idea to be seen by the court to be offering something.” I had a gut
feeling that I was playing this ‘game’ the wrong way and that I might be better off representing myself and sticking
to my guns of saying “no” all the way. The way things are going,
it all might rebound – I’d get no sympathy because I’d ‘agreed’ and my detestable ex would probably
get the babies for at least half the week, if not full residence. I learned that
Mr Two-face has got a good character reference under his belt from one of the church leaders – John Dowell no less. I knew it! That smarmy git knows exactly
what he’s doing and everyone gets taken in by him. I wonder how the likes
of John would feel if one day his daughter dates a guy like Gareth. He’d
soon be begging the likes of me for my testimonial. I was forced to give that
b…. Parental Responsibility, which lawyers try to tell you means nothing. But
it darned well does. Now he has a big say in the kids education and he is making
it clear to all and sundry that he opposes home tuition – well he sodding would, wouldn’t he? He’s promised to do anything to thwart my future plans. He doesn’t give a dickie bird for the babies – it’s me he’s
interested in and the amount of suffering he can cause me. It also means that
he now has a say in their medical needs and I know for a fact that he’ll look for any
opportunity to cause trouble in that department. Oh and I’m also not
allowed to go abroad for more than a month without that toad’s permission.
JUNE 9TH 1999
Melissa is a big one year old. Dad popped in with a cuddly for her then we spent some lazy time in the park –
it was a glorious day. Later we indulged in our usual ‘treats’ and
the kids helped Melly blow out her candle.
At about 8.00 pm, the crowd of numbskulls
were gathering again on my walls, on my gate and in my yard, and they began to chuck rocks and anything else they could get
their grubby little paws on, at my living room window. Andrew and Shell had been
inside all evening. I dialled 999 and told the officer that they’d better
get themselves over here quick or they’ll have a murder on their hands. After
about the third call and over an hour later the fuzz eventually showed up. Some
louts were caught in the act but all the police did was ask them nicely to stay away from my house. The little thugs just ran off grinning and jeering that they’d be back later. Well, they would, wouldn’t they? The police force is
a laughing stock and a license for the sadistic enjoyment for today’s youth. During
the rumpus Andrew and Shell had the nous to take some photos of the assailants. Maybe
the local rag will name and shame these well-known rascals.
There is a lot to be said for the
bringing back of corporal punishment. Wouldn’t it be brill if we had laws
that permit the public humiliation of people [kids and adults] if there is clear evidence that someone has committed a crime. It would save the taxpayer from the expense of flawed and lengthy court hearings and
prisons and it would stop the scandalous lining of pockets of fat cat judiciaries. People
could then see real justice being done and the guilty wouldn’t be in such a hurry to re-offend. A public hiding would work wonders. If Joe Public played detective
and put his camcorder to better use than You’ve been framed, he could catch
plenty of crooks in the act. Those silly, ineffective CCTV cameras would soon
be obsolete and the sooner the better because right now they are used selectively and are open to abuse. You can bet your bottom dollar that if there was the possibility of officials or wealthy businessmen or
‘underworld’ characters being caught on CCTV doing wrong, the camera in question would be: not working or not
providing a clear enough picture or pointing the wrong way! CCTV is not used
for tackling crime. It is just another tool to be used against the underclass
when it suits the authorities and to bring revenue in to government coffers. If
our authorities were trustworthy, Joe Public would feel confident that CCTV is money well spent and that they significantly
help in catching criminals. Since this is not the case, we need civilian detectives.
The ‘ordinary’ person
in the street could take photos of criminals red-handed and send them to the newspapers – it wouldn’t be long
before identities were known and appropriate physical punishment could be administered immediately. The ridiculous re-offending lark where cons get eighty odd convictions et cetera is a farce. The public are fed up of it. We have a God given right to
walk this Earth safely. We live in a so-called democracy and therefore we supposedly elect politicians to manage our money, make our laws and enforce
them. They should get on with it and if they’re too spineless, incompetent
or corrupt they should get out, stop claiming their fat salaries, go on income support and give the job to someone who will do it effectively. All our existing
politicos want is our votes and our adulation. Well they can go to hell. The expensive and wasteful bureaucracy of our present so-called justice system is
criminal and is wide open for abuse. Revolutionary change is needed and we ‘ordinary’
mortals have to force it. The police boast that recorded crime is down!!! If
all of us poor victims constantly hound them, they’ll soon find their figures rising and big changes will have to happen. Furthermore, the police hierarchy should be jailed
for corruption, perverting justice, professional misconduct and fraud. So too
should guilty politicians, judges, magistrates, council and social services bigwigs….
JUNE 10TH 1999
There was a touching scene at breccy. Mel dropped her beaker and began to cry. Jordan
rushed to her aid, handed her the cup, stroked her hand and said, “Ok?”
She then grabbed hold of her toes and he exclaimed, “Ah baby.” Then
he kissed her on the forehead. Typical little charmer – just like all males!
As I sipped at my cuppa it occurred
to me that I haven’t heard anything from the LEA about their home-education inspection in April. I thought it would’ve been polite to acknowledge in writing that everything was at least ‘satisfactory’. I suppose no news is good news though. But
you can bet your life that if there were any ‘concerns’, I’d have been pestered mercilessly by the ‘experts’
by now.
This morning I ran four miles. The first one took me eight minutes, the second took ten minutes, the third took eleven
minutes and the fourth twelve minutes. As I basked in the blazing sunshine and
sipped at my orange, I was stunned to read some writing on the wall, which said, “Andrew and Sharon will win and Shell
also. Ha ha.” What a wonderful
boost.
Eva popped in to tell me that that
I’m invited to have my say at a child protection conference where a team will decide if any action needs to be taken
regarding the safety of my children as they have decided that the fire was maliciously started. My world was turned upside down. I began to babble, “Just
because a lousy fireman called Brian betrayed me…. I could’ve lied about the pans of water. I could’ve said they were a scientific experiment. I
could’ve made up a story about the tapers – that I’m a smoker and too idle to clean up. I could’ve said my diary notes were complete fiction – just ideas for a book. I should’ve agreed with those clowns that the kettle was on, that it caused the fire, that
it was an accident - end of story. But I didn’t because what we experienced
was unnerving and literally out of this world and although people should know about the existence and power of spirits, I
can see now that some are not ready for such awareness. And in any case I couldn’t
lie; I had to tell the truth.”
I wailed, “But it is being used
against me. This is all somehow working out for Gareth – just the way he
planned it. I’m fighting a bitter court battle with him and now all this
is just the ammo he needs. I’m sure that if there hadn’t been all
those vicious unfounded allegations against me and the over-reactive doctor’s incorrect prognosis, there wouldn’t
be a ludicrous ‘conference’. Even my job with children may now be
jeopardised. Anyway, as far as they’re concerned, the ‘devil-talk’
shouldn’t come into it – it’s a personal experience. The point
is they can’t prove any of us started that fire – deliberately or not. So
we shouldn’t be accused. It is an unexplained fire.” Eva was very sympathetic and supportive and agreed that if we’d just had the fire, there almost certainly
would not be a conference to decide if my children need to be placed under the care of the Child Protection Authorities. My head was buzzing with confusion, outrage and utter disbelief that they can go this far. Eva tried to reassure me that the worst outcome
of conference would be that my children are registered ‘at risk’ but she was pretty confident that it wouldn’t
come to that. I felt dazed and sick just thinking about the looming nightmare
meeting.
Glassy-eyed, I smiled when Eva said
she was a lateral thinker and that she believes that we did experience something from the higher realms. She agreed with my observations that it’s always the innocents that get hounded and persecuted and
that the bad guys are left in peace. I told her about the illegal activities
Gareth gets away with and the clout he has over the police - I informed her of his good character ref, his son being let off
criminal damage, and the fact that he is known by police as being a wife/child batterer, yet no action is taken and he gets awarded custody whilst his wife is denied all contact with her children [whom she loves to bits] by the
authorities and court. I mentioned all the referrals [from senior school teachers
and the Dolgellau locals] concerning social services, the EWO and GW’s older kids - and the authorities’ inaction. I told her about the neighbourhood louts, the dangerous dog and the fact that
authorities turn a blind eye. I mentioned the appalling police threat that I’d be bound over to keep the peace and the suspicious circumstances surrounding
the CCTV incident in March. I informed her that the officials are right when
they express concern that my kids are at risk. They are – from arrogant
bureaucrats, mad dogs, out of control juveniles….
Late afternoon the little lad that
I walloped off my wall, and his pint-sized pals turned up again slinging stones at our window; so Andrew darted out and thumped
him. He screamed and slithered off to get an adult [any would do], who dutifully
obeyed the nine-year old troublemaker and came banging on my door demanding to see me.
Andrew yelled back through the letterbox at the stupid bloke on the other side, “Mum doesn’t want to speak
to you – she doesn’t talk to strangers.” The bloke stormed
off swearing blue murder.
After a couple of hours, the same
lad and about twenty other little brain-deads were back. One slashed my TV aerial,
others emptied my bins and pelted rubbish at my windows. Some of it missed and
hit the neighbours’ cars and windows. They were egging each other on, laughing
and brandishing various weapons – knives, bars, catapults, bows and arrows…. After four emergency calls to cops,
they eventually showed up well over an hour later at which point the people next door scooted out and screamed at me with
such rage saying that I should handle it myself and that Andrew is to blame, that he’s so naughty he’s been expelled
from school…. I walked away from them – there’s no point trying to talk sense to folk who refuse to let
go of tradition and consider alternatives. Most people are so scared of being
different and most only feel comfortable when they are behaving like ostriches. Police
moved the crowd on – for now. But the problem has not been dealt with –
none of them were even ticked off! Police waste time and money pretending to
do their jobs. One cop even admitted that they just want an easy life.
JUNE 11TH 1999
I bumped into my cousin Carolyn down
town. She’s got problem neighbours too.
One spiteful menace now slashes her tyres and allows his dog to contaminate her pathway just because she politely asked
him to take responsibility for his hound. We discussed the problem of kids who
don’t know right from wrong and the parents who are too drunk or drugged to care what their offspring get up to. We talked about the boundaries that kids cross just because they are in gangs and
feel pressured to impress and be the most daring. We decided that society condones
anti-social behaviour. Society allows police officers to be beaten up and killed. We
concluded that the government, police chiefs and justices will be at the top of Mr and Mrs Law-abider’s hit lists as
widespread anarchy breaks out which will be a certainty if the current trend continues and those guilty people at the top
don’t change their ways.
A really helpful guy in a DIY shop
demonstrated how to fix my tap after it had come off in my hand! I even managed to do a bit of plumbing under the kitchen
sink when the pipe spouted a leak. It’s wonderful when that little voice
that says “eureka” pops into your head!
As I walked down my road, a mother
ran out to rescue her kids, yelling, “Is she threatening you again? Keep
away from her – she’s a nutter.”
Everyone refers to Jonathon Aitken
as the disgraced minister and the lag but he is one of the fortunate ones who has found God.
He admits that he used to call himself a Christian but that it was just external show and that nothing in his heart
was Christian-like. Those in high places who sneer at him now should take a look
at themselves and ask themselves just how saintly their own behaviour is. Ok,
they may not have lied on oath but ALL high flying politicos lie incessantly to the public for their own self-gain which is
a huge sin and in my opinion also deserving of prison. God will judge them.
Around 9.00 pm a gang played footie
right outside my gate. Their ball twice thudded against my window and they continually
and cockily strolled into my yard whenever they pleased. So I confiscated it. You should’ve seen their faces and heard their pathetic bleats of protest. A police officer ordered me to give them their ball back. I was numb with shock and disgust. “Aren’t you
going to reprimand them?” I
gasped. He said he wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of a row at the
moment – he’d do it later. ‘Fat chance,’ I thought. Then he sternly reminded me that I’m not allowed to steal their things! I informed him that those kids have broken Andrew’s
belongings and that police are making themselves look quite ridiculous appeasing the nuisances. I told him to just take a look at the nauseating glint of victory in their eyes. Carry on ruling kids….
JUNE 12TH 1999
It’s official! Ninety per cent of people live in fear of crime, a disturbing report shows.
My yard was full of crows. I was somehow drawn to watching them and I shuddered as I looked into their eyes and felt a powerful negative
force. It was as if I was being warned of some impending doom. Images of horror films overwhelmed me such as The Omen and I
began philosophising that all good stories come from someone’s experiences or dreams and that some dreams are highly
prophetic. I worryingly reasoned that, despite my earlier conviction of its purely
fictional status, The Omen is probably not such a crazy idea after all but is in
fact based on a sinister reality and that we are witnessing the increasing evil now and Satan’s coming to power.
This afternoon I dropped my old school
pal, Sue, a swift page. She wrote at Easter, so it’s about time I got back
to her. Unfortunately my news is mainly doom and gloom.
After tea we endured another completely
unprovoked attack. Rocks came catapulting over, landing on my porch and shed
roof and in my yard. Andrew and Shell climbed on the shed to investigate and
caught next-door’s kids with their weapons, in the act. Andrew told them
to pack it in, but was struck by stones. In self-defence he and Shell hurled
a couple back, then dived in. But police were called on us, and a right mouthy, overbearing PC [939] turned up to intimidate and threaten Andrew. Waving a finger at Andrew and looming menacingly over him, he boomed, “You and I will be going
for a chat in the police station. You’ll be going into care soon; I’m
not coming to this house all the time. You’ve been threatening kids with
this dangerous stick – it’s even got a nail on the end of it.”
Stunned and infuriated I interrupted
him with, “Oh no; you get those streetwise delinquents in and have a chat with them – the ones who terrorise old
folk and mug old ladies and vandalise property and steal handbags…. My two are ganged up on; GANGED UP ON, by that mob. They’ve been kicked and punched and hit with sticks and stones and have had
their bikes and toys nicked and their clothes torn. The kids around here make
such weapons and fire them AT MY TWO. Andrew and Shelly have only fired back
with toy guns; the same type that ALL the kids around here use. Those yobs pick
on all the good kids and on nice quiet residents. Lin, up the road has frequently
fled her home in fear and has suffered broken windows and the retirement home are forever banging on their windows trying
to get rid of those pests.”
He butted in, “Don’t you
raise your voice to me; your kids are the problem; you need to learn to keep them
in and control them.” He kept telling me that this will all end in tears
and that my kids will end up in ‘care’. He said, “It’ll
be the ‘at risk’ register next – you’ll see.” I
informed him that it was strange that my ex had warned me that the police have got it in for me and that this ‘at risk’
threat was a little familiar. I said there is something sinister going on behind
the scenes. By now, Andrew was upset and in tears.
The PC asked if I believe in an eye
for an eye. What kind of stupid question is that?
Is he insinuating that we should just lie down and let any bloody fool do whatever they please to us and our home? I ordered him not to wave his stupid finger at me and I made him aware in no uncertain
terms that he should be aiming his impressive zeal on the yobs that need it – the real troublemakers. I also angrily enquired as to why he wasn’t picking on Shell, since he is determined to get at us
and she too was on my shed roof trying to DEFEND OUR PROPERTY.
I mocked the force, saying that it
is a farce and that everyone knows they have no authority and are just a complete
waste of time and public money. I said, “You lot are a bunch of bent jokers.” I pointed out that three and four year old mites play out on streets two or three
blocks away at 10.00 pm at night and the police pass them during their patrols. I
told them that police should take those kids home earlier, give their parents a telling off and report it to social services. I enquired as to why authorities allow such young kids to roam the streets especially
late at night. I also asked him why the police were picking on us.
As he left he said, “Your kids
will be taken off you – just you watch. I’ll be reporting this to
social services.” I boomed back, “And I’ll be reporting YOU
to your superiors.” When he’d gone, Andrew and I hissed in harmony,
“Bloody ba …...std.” I wailed to the kids, “It’s
not fair. How come those kids can get away with near murder and we do nothing
wrong, but get blamed?” “Because we’re good and they’re
bad,” answered Shell.
Now I’m even more convinced
of a murky conspiracy to have my children removed from me. Police have definitely
got it in for Andrew – they’re trying to frame him. Why? Do they consider him a threat? Just cos he can see through
their bullsh…. I know that some police officers [well quite a lot] are corrupt, but this is unreal. Is the corruption systemic or just confined to a few barrels of rotten apples? Does it pollute all forces? I looked back on all the incidents,
all the times that police should’ve prosecuted Gareth for harassment, yet despite everything, he wasn’t even arrested
– not once. I recalled the scandalous ‘bound over’ threat and
the out of order police threat of the ‘at risk’ register during the CCTV incident.
I remembered the CID interrogation and the fact that Walshie blames Andrew for the fire. I wouldn’t be surprised if it is CID who are calling for the conference. I look back in incredulity at police attitude regarding the attacks by gangs and their failure to protect
us and [worse] their accusations that we are to blame. I’m beginning to
wonder if police are bribing those little horrors into provoking us. It is staggering
that I’m threatened with child abuse charges.
And now this latest threat: ‘at risk’ register – kids in care – end in tears.
My mind was racing. Ugly underworld want me and Andrew dead or destroyed. Andrew sees gangs attacking us and nobody in authority doing a damned thing about
it; he sees me challenge the thugs only to be reprimanded by the authorities; he sees the police allowing other kids to commit
criminal activity yet when he fights back in the name of justice, he is reprehended
and told that he’ll be taken away from his mother and his home.
I try to guide the kids by telling
them not to be violent like all the thugs, but then I also believe strongly in justice and Andrew knows that you have to give idiots ‘what for’ back. That’s fair
and will stop evil controlling. But bureaucrats tell us not to engage in “eye
for eye” tactics. No wonder so many adults and kids are traumatised, confused
and mentally ill. Emma receives official mixed messages – on the one hand
she is forced by social workers to attend ‘anger control’ counselling and on the other she is effectively encouraged
by police to continue misbehaving, since they refuse to correct her and her friends.
We low-life are abused by authorities and told to lump it. Many parents
and children give up the fight for justice and turn to the bottle and other props. Can
we sue the government for mental torment? They win elections with ‘family
values’ and ‘tackling crime’ campaigns but the truth is, they and
top civil servants are the CRIMINALS and they encourage
crime. Kids turn to crime to survive because if they stay pure they are bullied
mercilessly. Even decent parents are giving up and letting their children befriend
the baddies because there aren’t many good uns left – they’ve all been changed. And so the rotten domino effect continues. If the government
stop the hypocrisy and fudge ups it’d be a start and there’d be hope for us all.
I wish I’d got that loudmouthed bully – PC 939 on tape. I
could’ve reported him to the Police Complaints Authority. No point now because he’ll only lie his head off and
deny it.
JUNE 13TH 1999
Over breccy, pud watched me with half
open eyes; so I mimicked him. Then he abruptly shut them; so I copied. He then puckered up his face; so I mirrored him. This entertainment
went on for ages with no signs of him getting bored. It’s amazing the concentration
and stamina that tots possess during one to one games with a loved one. Mel also
got in on the act with her impressions.
I was just about to get my feet up
on the sun lounger when I was bombarded by stones from all directions. Some even
came hurling over my roof and some came at me from over the home’s roof. I saw one lad [who wouldn’t have been
much older than five] agilely climb down from a nearby roof, clutching a catapult; then he disappeared into some overgrowth. It was a good job Jordan wasn’t playing outside.
Andrew and I got showered by missiles as we attempted to identify the culprits.
We were forced to retreat inside – me nursing a red nose and forehead and Andrew suffering a cut head and bruising. As usual the police were useless but at least today’s bobbies didn’t have
an attitude and said that this is a widespread problem in Colwyn Bay which cannot be dealt with. Now I am unable to enjoy the sunshine on my own doorstep and I have to keep the kids locked up inside like
jailbirds. This is an atrocious state of affairs and we’re not the only
casualties. It’s getting to the stage where I have to watch my back now
even during a short walk to the shops and that I’ll have to keep the babies’ pram rain cover on when we go out.
Around 10.00 pm we got a faint whiff
of the stale smoke again in the hall – it was as if the unknown ugly creature was laughing at us and warning us that
he intends to create more trouble and cause us grief. Then again the ‘smell’
could’ve been quite ‘normal’ and harmless and it might’ve seeped in from outside when the door was
opened.
JUNE 14TH 1999
Dad and I sorrowfully reminisced that
it was two years ago today when mum died. Life is such a struggle that I’m
ashamed to say that I sometimes half envy her [I didn’t tell dad that tho.] It
is only the kids that give life meaning, and me the strength and will to battle on.
We got on the subject of slime ball and his shotgun threats and I assured dad that I’m number one on his hit
list but that he’d have to kill a heck of a lot of people if he wants to stop resistance.
This afternoon we all trooped off
to the zoo. It made a welcome change and gave us some respite from all the onslaughts
and hostilities. Three different schools were up there on trips and the kids
couldn’t resist commenting that they’re glad that they’re not part of a school party. Shell said it’s so much nicer to come and go as you please and sit and eat when you want [in peace]
and not be herded from place to place like sheep within the restrictions of a rigid time-table. I piped up that it is safer, more beneficial and more enjoyable this way for all of us and that some kids
go missing on school outings and some kids even get horrifically raped or murdered when they go away.
JUNE 15TH 1999
The kids and I walked into the bowels
of the conference room and were greeted by a table full of devils. I’d
gone there thinking that they’d be reasonable and I hoped that I could trust them to make sensible decisions but it
soon became apparent that no matter what common sense and truth I spoke, the bigoted bureaucrats were determined to wield
a heavy stick and crush me. The annihilation was led by Walshie. The other puppets paled into insignificance and lamely voted in agreement with CID that all four of my
children must be placed on the child protection ‘At Risk’ register – “for their own good” –
because they are categorized under the “likelihood of Physical Harm.” All
of them supported this gross violation except for enlightened Eva and Pat who were astonished at such abruptness since a fire
representative hadn’t bothered to grace us with his presence or a report filed in his absence and that an unidentified
out of hours social worker [supposedly present on the night of the fire] hadn’t fronted up either or made available
a statement. In their wisdom, the Gods even felt it necessary that my children
should not return home with me this evening and should be placed immediately in the ‘care’ of social services
– until the Chair decided to check out the legalities with their solicitor and discovered that that was too drastic
a step and that an urgent ‘Core Group’ be set up immediately to keep a beady eye on me.
‘Spiteful’ is an understatement! Who the hell do this lot think they are? If
this is the mentality of persons making important decisions, no wonder the country is in the gutters. Walshie kicked off with his ‘concerns’ that although Andrew is a “very bright child,”
he “sees demons,” urgently needs to see a psychiatrist and had started the fire maliciously. He was worried that Andrew writes about corruption and evil and that he used words such as “bastard.” He added that more importantly was the fact that I’d merely corrected his spelling
of the word “bastard” rather than the use of it and he inferred that I was a negative influence over my children. The toffee-nosed group had hollow expressions of horror painted on their faces, so
I informed them that Andrew is merely being honest about what he sees in the world and that I challenge any of them to show
me a child who doesn’t use the word “bastard” [well, one who lives around here anyway i.e. in the real world.] I explained that I think it’s important
that my children are aware of the not so congenial realities of life so that they are more prepared for life’s challenges
and are able to stand their ground. I glared at Walshie and said, “It is
improper of you to incriminate a harmless innocent child on the strength of your biased opinion, since you have no proof that
any of us started that fire. I’d rather you accuse me than to put such
a burden on Andrew’s shoulders. If you had experienced the paranormal phenomena
that we have been subject to and in fear of, you would want support and a little respect. You would not want high-handed narrow-minded
officialdom, and you would be furious if you were accused of arson and of lying and of the inference that your psyche is abnormal. We do not need and do not deserve any more hardship.
We’ve been frank about it all; we expect you to be more open-minded.”
Dr Groves put her tuppence ha’penny
worth in and brought up Dr Macareth’s ‘burn’ blunder. Dr Groves babbled on about a mark on Melissa’s
shoulder which was an “issue of some concern” to Dr Macareth and that since Dr Macareth was unhappy with my explanation
of it being eczema it was suggested that Mel be taken to hospital for treatment. I
clarified the issue, saying that I was forced to take Melissa to hospital. I also made it clear that the hospital paediatricians and three general practitioners
were in no doubt that it was eczema and that she was treated for such. I made
the point that the above stated medics felt that there had been an over-reaction and that it hadn’t been necessary to
call in social workers or send her to hospital.
I don’t know what came over
me but I was so enraged at this stage at this high and mighty lot and their put downs and I was so convinced that they had
it in for me, no matter what, that I heard myself saying, “Dr Macareth is incompetent and over-bearing; she should’ve
thought twice about rushing us off to hospital and she should’ve got a second opinion before squealing to social services
and causing us unnecessary hassle and stress. You people don’t realise
or don’t care how damaging all this is. I’m fighting a very crafty
ex-partner in court for residence of my two babies. He is a genuine RISK to them because of his alcohol dependency and violent tempers. My
ex has battered his ex-wife, his son and my son and is known to police and social services as a violent and abusive man. Referrals came from professional sources as well as from worried locals, yet amazingly
he was awarded custody of his children and his ex-wife was denied all contact.
There is something very shady and
secret going on here. HE is protected
by the authorities, whilst I am being victimised.
There seems to be a conspiracy to displace my children, and my vindictive and malicious ex partner is getting all the
help he needs from men in high places who are themselves protected by a wall of silence.
This happened to Gareth’s ex wife too.”
The others put in their two bob’s
worth and astonishingly even all the past malicious allegations from Mr ‘Anonymous’ himself were brought up -
to be used against me. I was livid and told them that it was about time they
concentrated their ‘grave concerns’ where is it required and that they started pursuing real problem families
and evildoers, and leaving the innocent easy prey alone. I asked when they intended
to start supporting the victims and when they intended to start wielding their
heavy stick against the bullet shooters. They
repeatedly bleated on about being interested in the “safety and protection” of my children. I boomed, “Look, you lot may be hypocrites and liars, but I’m not. Let’s get this straight. The only person protecting
and caring for my kids is ME. You people want to put my kids in your so-called
‘care’ where abuse is ripe and where your type look the other way and
are never brought to book Many children are bullied relentlessly at school
and at home, yet the likes of you don’t give a fig. Some kids are driven
to such despair that they commit suicide. That’s manslaughter and your sort should be held accountable. You lot don’t
care. You are self-righteous and self-serving.
This is not democracy. I’ll tell you something else too. I’ll tell you what malicious is – a doctor who calls in social services because she is incapable
of recognising eczema and you people registering my children without due cause and causing me to lose my childminding job
and of caring for disadvantaged children and maybe even of causing me to lose custody of my babies to a very dangerous man. This is NOT about the safety and well
being of my children; it is all about pig-headed control. This conference is
a kangaroo court-like event. It is nothing more than pure and simple SPITE. Explain that to the people who pay your wages.”
It was quite out of character for
me to erupt and boil over in this way, but something seemed to be speaking through me and I was incensed at such arrogance
and with the threat of losing my children. These dummies came out with such trivia that I found myself raising my eyes to
the heavens; then holding my head in my hands. Some smart Alec [I think it was
the Chair - Seale] suggested as a precautionary measure that I keep all lighters, matches etc on “Mrs Kilby’s
person.” Yeah right, I’d probably be charged with carrying an offensive
weapon! I asked the morons if they’d never noticed all the lighters that
lie abandoned in gutters and that any kid could easily start a fire if he so wished, even without the use of such tools. Their worships conclude that my kids should be registered ‘at risk’ but
they admitted not knowing from what exactly. I assured them that they were not
at risk from me and that a fire can happen to anyone. Now they insist on a very
urgent core group to look at ways of offering us “protection and support.”
I remarked that social services and a bunch of ‘child welfare experts’ are not the people who can help
us. The Chair, rather patronizingly, tried to convince me that this wouldn’t
jeopardise my work with other children; but even I know that those are weasel words.
I asked him to sign a statement to that effect. He wouldn’t.
As we were preparing to leave, everyone
commented on how patient and well behaved all my kids are and that they’d never seen anything like it. So Andrew enquired, “Then why are we all being registered?”
Dr Groves even had the neck to try and befriend Melly by smiling at her and offering her a doll to play with –
yet minutes earlier, she was doing her utmost to cause me problems, get my kids taken off me and into the hands of someone
who would not care one jot about them and may even hurt them. Even Mel [only
twelve months old] instinctively saw right through her façade, frowned, pushed the doll back at her and looked away. Melly had probably picked up on my distress and had realised that these strangers
were the cause. Also, babies and children know
what is inside a person’s heart.
After that taxing hour and a bit I
was so shocked and in a state of disbelief and confusion that I had to ask Eva if the kids were actually registered now. She must’ve felt the same way because she had to double
check with the Chair. She tried to loosen me up a bit and explained that they’re
just erring on caution because, due to past mistakes, they daren’t take chances.
I protested that it’s alright them watching their backs, I too have a duty and the desire to protect my kids
from that interfering closed-minded smug bunch. I told her that those piranhas
will send Andrew mad and in need of a psychiatrist with all their talk of core
groups, social workers, psychiatrists, conferences…. I said it is a scandal and a violation of rights and that if they
are so sure that Andrew is guilty, why aren’t police prosecuting? I
told her that I believe CID fixed all this and that the police were going to get my kids registered come what may. I said that Walshie was too quick with his hand up when everyone was asked for a decision and that he was
the most insistent that all four of my kids be declared ‘at risk’. I
remarked that I’d seen all this coming, that the police had told me that they’ve got it in for me…. At least
Eva spoke some truth when she remarked that psychiatrists are “more loopy than anyone!” She also felt that being unconventional had put the ‘experts’ on their guard.
As soon as we got out of that place
of hell, the kids told me that if anyone tried to take them away, they’d hold on to me and wouldn’t let go and
they’d scream and cry, kick and spit on any social worker who came near them.
I told them that NO ONE is going to break us up and woe betide anyone who tries.
All I could think of on the way home
was that those barstewards had effectively signed my babies over to the control of their alcoholic and abusive father. The writing was on the wall. I’d
seen it all coming three or four months ago. My ill willed ex has got exactly
what he wanted and has achieved it with the full support and compliance of civil service bigwigs. I’ll be crucified in court now over this.
I immediately phoned my solicitor,
but John Owens told me that they’re not doing anything illegal and that we have nothing to challenge them on. He agreed that it was all a bit heavy handed but that they can’t afford to take chances because of
past failures. He said that assuming they find no snags during the so-called
Comprehensive Risk Assessment and they find nothing wrong with our brains, then “more power to your elbow.” I wasn’t convinced and I sobbed my heart out all night. My nightmares are coming true. There’s a strong chance
that I could lose all of my babies - yet all I did was tell the truth. How in
God’s name can this be happening? What the hell did we do to deserve all
this?
JUNE 16TH 1999
Still reeling from the ludicrous ‘at
risk’ label I contacted the fire department to discuss their findings. I was hoping that they’d tell conference
that there is no evidence of the fire being set deliberately. But they say that
the fire is suspicious, although they’re not pointing fingers. I asked
if someone would take another look at my kitchen to reconsider their view that the fire started in the curtains and somehow
skimmed only part of the soap powder box to partly destroy the kettle. I pointed
out that it is strange that the cupboard above the box was totally unaffected despite the fact that fire burns upwards and
ours was burning for over twenty minutes. I informed them that the kettle was
initially blamed but because I’d said that I was so sure that it was off, they looked elsewhere for a source. I also said that I’ve since contacted an electrician who states that a fire can start in a kettle
or other electrical appliance if there is a fault in it or in the socket wiring, even if it is turned off. I described the bizarre ‘V’ shape on the front of the box where the kettle had touched it but
that the back of the box had not burned. I also said that the firemen had thought
that the washing machine could have been the cause. But their attitude is that
they’ve done a report and that’s final.
I then remarked that you cannot accuse
someone of arson simply by subjective opinion without any concrete proof - that it wouldn’t stand up in a court of law. The fire official slapped me down with, “You’d better have a good lawyer.” The bully then bluntly informed that no matter how many calls I make to them, their
findings and report would not change.
I also phoned the Chair, Graham Seale,
to invite him to
