Please, Daddy, No: A Boy Betrayed

by Stuart Howarth

  We need to educate children and teach them about inappropriate behaviour in schools, as part of their sex education. It’s no good telling children ‘Don’t talk to strangers’, because most victims of abuse know the perpetrators well. Most abusers are within families or in positions of trust, so the child doesn’t recognize that what they are doing is wrong.

  The closer it came to my release date in September the slower the days seemed to pass as the rest of the world moved on without us. Inside Strangeways we heard about the destruction of the World Trade Center towers at the same time as everyone else who was watching television, and a sort of shocked hush fell over the prison that day. Sometimes outside events seem even more shocking when you are locked away because you have more time to think about them, and your imagination builds up terrible pictures of what might be happening. People on the outside could see that normal life was continuing all over the world, even though the political landscape had been changed forever, but we couldn’t see that, we just saw the media pictures of the crashing planes and the falling towers.

  The countdown to 19 September was unbearable, and the day itself started like every other prison day, the same jangling of keys, banging of doors and harsh shouts. I hardly dared to believe that I was finally going to be walking free, terrified in case someone in authority changed their mind and they locked me back up again. I was excited, but nervous about how the outside world would respond to me now that they all knew what I had done, and what had been done to me as a child. Would they see me as a ‘cold-blooded killer, like the bail judge and like many of the prison staff? Would they see me as a bad boy who deserved his punishment, both as a child and as an adult? Or would they sympathize with me, like the people who had been forced to listen to my entire story in court?

  I was escorted across to reception with the people who were going to court that day, so the screws didn’t have to make more than one trip from the wing. We then met up with men from other wings who were being released or going to court. It was a pleasant late summer’s day as we all sat together, waiting to be processed. Even at this late stage they wanted to keep us hanging around, to remind us that they were still in charge of our lives, if only for a few more hours.

  I sat quietly, listening to the conversations going on around me. The ones who were going out were all discussing where they were going to score some heroin. I wondered how many of them had developed the habit since being inside Strangeways. Drugs had been so freely available, much more freely available than they are on the street, and there never seemed to be any effort to help users to rehabilitate.

  Before I could be released they had to strip-search me one more time, just to remind me I wasn’t a free man yet, that they could still terrorize me if they chose to. They then kept me in the sweat room for another two hours before finally letting me out through the big steel gates into the daylight.

  It was such a wonderful feeling and I just wanted to make a new start, find out who I really was and get on with my life. As the gate slid back behind me I saw Tracey’s red car and the picture was shot into a million pieces as my eyes filled with tears. As I walked towards the car it felt like my heart hit my stomach. Tracey got out and hugged me, but I was unsure how to respond, too filled with mixed emotions, still standing in the shadow of those towering brick walls. My shoulders began to jerk up and down and I sobbed uncontrollably.

  I loaded my bag into the boot of the car just as Mum and Trevor drove up. Both of them got out and hugged me too. I was very conscious of the buses roaring past and all the buzz of normal life and I felt a tremor of panic at the enormity of taking charge of my own life once more. Was I actually up to the job?

  ‘I just want to get out of here,’ I said.

  I climbed into the front of the car next to Tracey. ‘I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for you,’ I told her. On the journey home I had to touch and hold her just as I had with Mum all those years ago, but my head was still bowed like that of a naughty child.

  I turned and watched Strangeways disappearing as we drew away, a vile, hidden world filled with failure, ignorance, bullying and cruelty, like a lost community, isolated from all the warmth and kindness of the world outside. I shivered. I wanted to get away from it, but I was frightened of the thought of freedom. I wanted to hide in the comfort of my own room at home, in my own space, where it would be peaceful and safe away from life and other people.

  ‘I love you,’ Tracey said as she drove into the traffic stream.

  ‘I know. Let’s just get home.’

  The bustle of the city outside the car was threatening to overwhelm me and I just wanted to get to the safety of Mum’s pub as quickly as possible. When we got back I went straight to my room and sat down, just as I would have done if I were returning to my cell. It was what I was used to doing, what made me feel safe. Tracey came in and sat beside me, giving me a kiss. I remained tense and unresponsive. I might be out of Strangeways, but jail wasn’t yet out of me. I had so many issues I was going to have to face before I could hope to lead a normal, happy life and I wasn’t sure how I was going to deal with them unsupported.

  My new journey was about to begin. I had to grow up from being the little boy I once was and I had to find Stuart, the man I really was!

  Chapter Twenty

  A NEW FATHER FIGURE

  We had issued proceedings against Strangeways, and W there was also the case against the babysitter coming up, so I knew I wasn’t going to be able to put all my unpleasant experiences behind me just because Dad was gone and I was out of jail. I would have to relive them many times for the lawyers and the courts in order to let people know what was going wrong with our childcare and prison systems. It would have been nice to have forgotten about everything, but I knew that things would only get better if people like me spoke out about what they had seen and experienced.

  Are you sure you’re all right?’ Tracey kept asking in the hours after I was released. She must have expected me to be overjoyed at being out, eager to see everyone and embrace life, but I didn’t really want to leave my room. I was in a state of shock, very like the night I came back from Dad’s house in Wales. So many things frightened me, such as noises I would never have noticed before. For instance Tracey had a habit of shaking her car keys when she was about to go out, making them jangle. ‘You’re not a screw!’ I would shout, unable to bear the noise.

  I became meticulous about cleaning myself and my surroundings, sure that I could detect the smell of jail and determined to eradicate it. I needed constant reassurance that people liked me and didn’t think I was a bad person because of what they had learned about me. My mind was going round and round in circles and I knew I was driving Tracey mad, but I couldn’t help myself

  When Geoff Hadfield phoned I burst into tears as I thanked him for all he’d done.

  ‘I’d like to see you tomorrow,’ he said in his usual gruff, no-nonsense manner. ‘Would you come down to the office?’

  I was always happy to go and see the Hadfields, confident that their high opinion of me was genuine, that they believed I was a good person. When I got there Geoff took me up to the boardroom and Sue, who was also the Company Secretary, was already there, along with Maurice, their General Manager, and Paul, their Finance Manager. I was shocked and unsure what was going on or what they were expecting of me.

  ‘Thanks for coming to see us today,’ Geoff said, as if it were me doing him a favour rather than the other way round. ‘I’ve had a talk amongst my colleagues. We’ve all worked with you before and we have a vacancy for a business development manager. We want you to do it.’

  ‘Geoff,’ I said, unable to stop the tears that were always so close to the surface from breaking through, ‘don’t feel sorry for me. I appreciate everything you’ve done because I’ve never had a father in my life, as you know. But I can’t take charity, Geoff’

  ‘Look, pal,’ he said, sounding mildly irritated at not getting the response he wanted. ‘I might have a heart but I’m no
t an idiot. The reason I’m successful in my business is because of the commercial decisions I’ve made. The first time you came here I told you you should come and work for me. I saw something in you. You put us all at ease, you were professional, you looked the part, and I’ve not changed my opinion since then. I think you can bring something to our party here. You’ve worked with big businesses and you’ve had your own business. This is not about anything personal, Stuart. If you turn round and tell me you don’t want the job that won’t be a problem, but I’m offering you something commercial here, not personal. You’ll always be my friend and I’ll always be here for you, whatever you decide.’

  His words made me cry even more. There I was, one day out of Strangeways, one day away from living in hell, being offered all I’d ever wanted by a man who was like a father to me. Coupled with Tracey, and Colm O’Gorman and Neil, I was finally beginning to see some good in the world, some reason to keep going and not keep thinking about ending it all.

  I wanted that job more than anything, but I couldn’t accept charity and I told him so.

  ‘Will you do me a favour?’ Geoff asked. ‘Will you just do us a presentation on what you think the job needs and what you would do if you were to take it?’

  ‘I owe you that much,’ I said. ‘But I’m still not accepting charity.’

  The following week I was back at the office making a presentation on how I would handle the job if I had it, increasing the volume of wood on the site by fifteen thousand tons a year. I had done my homework meticulously, just as I always did when I was after a job or a contract. It was a good presentation and I knew it. When I’d finished they all applauded and Geoff started talking again.

  ‘Right,’ he said, ‘I’m officially offering you the job.’ He went on to detail exactly what he was offering in the way of pay, even the sort of company car he was willing to give me. Over the next few months he and the rest of his family gradually wore down my resistance and convinced me that it was a completely genuine offer. As I grew more accustomed to the outside world, I eventually felt sufficiently confident of my own abilities to give in and accept the job. It felt like I was joining a new family, a family where no one was frightened to express their feelings to one another.

  There are so many people I need to say sorry to. To start with there are all the relationships that I made so impossible over the years because of how disturbed my mind was.

  I’m sorry that I ended up taking a man’s life and depriving his family of him.

  I am really sorry for all the years of my children’s early lives that I missed. I made contact with Matthew and Rebecca after I came out of prison and started to build a new relationship with them, starting by just going round to their house once a week and spending half an hour chatting to them at the door, trying to win their confidence back. Angela has done a great job of bringing them up and I’m sorry I wasn’t able to be more help to her. Rebecca was thirteen years old when I finally got to go out with her. I felt like the proudest man alive as I walked around the shops of Oldham with her, but I was also aware that I would never now get to push her on the swings or take her to the park, or see her doing things at school events. I have to accept that both the kids think of Angela’s current partner as their dad. They refer to me as their ‘old dad’, and I have to be content with that, even though it hurts. They changed their names to his even before I went to prison, because they wanted to be part of a proper family unit I guess, and I can understand that, but that hurts too. I am aware that they might not have turned out so well if I had stayed with them because I was very ill. They are both so beautiful and undamaged and I am very grateful for that.

  For everything that went wrong in my life there was only one person I felt I could blame, and that was Dad, but there is also the system, which often listens but fails to act.

  I now know for sure that David Howarth was my step-dad, just as he was for Shirley and Christina. Christina showed me a picture she had got from Mum of all of us posing as a family together. I am a baby, sitting on George Heywood’s knee. I wish Mum had shown me that picture when I was a child, then at least I would have had a better idea who I was. I went to visit George. He’s old now and suffering from dementia. I was surprised by how small he was. I felt no bond between us. He did not fulfil any of the needs or yearnings I had to find a father figure — that role has now been more than fulfilled by Geoff.

  At his trial, the babysitter who had abused me and Christina was not convicted, partly because I was so nervous and unstable from my prison experiences that I made a very bad witness.

  The case against Strangeways, however, was completely successful. The judge agreed that I had been abused and that the system was entirely unsatisfactory. Lord Justice Moses, who had just been overseeing the tragic Soham murders case, told me he didn’t know how I stopped myself from punching Smith on the nose when he made his comments about me enjoying being abused. He found that many of the officers were lying about the way in which I was treated, that there was a severe lack of training in the prison service and that they had been performing the strip-search incorrectly. He said there was no doubt that I’d had my human rights infringed. The judge ruled that the prison officers had caused a limited and temporary’ exacerbation of my Post Traumatic Stress Disorder and said I should also be compensated for ‘humiliation and loss of dignity’, and he awarded exemplary damages after finding there had been ‘misfeasance in public office’, which referred particularly to Prison Officer Smith.

  The judge did also admit that I probably was very annoying, the way in which I was writing everything down in my diary, but that at the same time I wasn’t being given the correct medical care. Smith was dismissed from the service and I was awarded damages. The money was not important; what was important was that finally the world was listening to me and believing the things that I told them.

  I learned the same day, however, that Smith had been reinstated, on the grounds that the prison service had not dealt with his disciplinary procedure correctly and within agreed timescales. This saddened and angered me and it seemed as though the prison service was having one last jibe at me. I was also concerned that he would be back on the wings and in the strip-search areas, free to dish out more punishment and abuse to other prisoners.

  As I embarked on the long journey ahead I was so grateful for all the love and comfort I was being shown. The greatest gift in my life, Tracey, was still by my side, having proved her love to me without question. Now, I felt it was time to repay her loyalty and to build on the love we shared.

  I hope that readers who have been brave enough to read to the end of my story will feel that, despite all the unhappiness and pain, there is still a message of hope. The children of dysfunctional families will always be damaged, but with the right help from caring and loving people, we can move on to live good and productive lives — we can even learn to love and to allow ourselves to be loved in return.