Mummy's Still Here

by Jeanne D'Olivier

  Whilst some of the feature's of Gerry's case were closely reminiscent of ours. She had by this time, already lost all contact for a period of four years and this was being used by Giles as a precedent for his recommendations in regard to M and I.

  There was only one feature of Gerry's case that was significantly different to my own and that was that the Judge on her case had made a clear finding of coaching, whereas in our case, there was no finding that I had ever coached M against his father. Whilst I did not believe for one minute that Gerry had coached her daughter, mothers in this situation are often persuaded by their lawyers to accept the Local Authority's allegations that they have influenced their children and promise not to do this again, in the hope of maintaining contact with their children. Of course, in reality this does not work, because any admission, even a false admission, is likely to be then used as a reason to cut the mother out of the child's life. Gerry had succumbed to this pressure, although she later retracted it most strongly explaining that she did so under the advice of her lawyers, but sadly the damage had already been done and they had jumped on her initial "false" confession and there was no way back.

  Fortunately, I had never made any such admission, despite various barrister's suggesting that I do so. In my mind one must always tell the truth and I had never believed that to do otherwise, even strategically, would result in a good outcome. What was more, if M were to disclose again in the future, he would be even less likely to be believed. I had to stay faithful to what I knew to be the truth and no-one could have persuaded me otherwise.

  Christopher felt the fact that Gerry's case differing from my own in this way, would go a long way in challenging the Guardian's views. In fact there was no evidence against me, other than M's alleged wish not to see me - a wish that I knew in my heart - was nonsense. I knew my son and whilst I had been denied any meaningful relationship with him now for a considerable time, I believed with all my heart, that he still loved and needed me.

  I had written to the Child Protection Officer at the school he now attended and asked her to confirm to me in writing what she had witnessed during the short time I had with M in her office. Her views were clearly positive on this and she was able to say that M had been happy to see me and had hugged me and talked about seeing me that Sunday. He had also expressed a wish for me to attend Sports Day. I hoped that this would be valuable and independent evidence and at least she was one person who had seen me without either M's father or the Guardian being present. The marked contrast between how M had behaved that day, against the contacts both witnessed and reported by R or the Guardian should surely go a long way in demonstrating the influence that both of them had had on my son. But like so many that had gone before, she later changed her position when she met with Giles and told him that, despite her written statement to me, she too believed M did not want to see me.

  In our initial case on the Island, his form teacher had given evidence that M had been deeply distressed when he was bullied for a good hour in the staff room by the first psychologist on the case, which she had witnessed. He had been told he could not go home until he had agreed to kick a football with his father and have his photo taken doing so. I still remember with harsh clarity, the moment he had been pushed through my back door by her, after she had brought him home following this contact. He had been soaked in his own urine and was red faced and shaking from crying. I had carried him in my arms to the doctor who was horrified at the state he was in and wrote repeatedly to Social Services begging them to cease contact with his father until he was ready. But they knew he would never be ready and they began coming after the doctor, saying she was biased in my favour because she was our GP and threatening her with losing her license if she continued to support this view.

  The photos of M and R kicking the ball show a child, unsmiling and turning away from R. No-one could possibly have described this as a picture of a happy relationship between father and son and yet the Judge had favoured them over the many photos of M hugging me, his eyes sparkling and dancing with happiness and his body snuggled into mine. By contrast, these photos of which there were many, would be called "staged" and the only photos on which they relied, were the fabricated evidence of that day.

  M's screams on that fateful occasion had been heard by another mother who had gone back into the building having forgotten her daughter's school bag. She had rung me anxiously from her mobile, knowing that M had been taken from his classroom only minutes before the end of the school day and taken to the staffroom. Her daughter had asked if M was in trouble. She had been horrified by what she heard and I was in agony, unable to end the cruel torture because I was again threatened with jail, should I attempt to intervene in any way. I would have accepted imprisonment willingly if it would have helped end even a second of M's suffering, but sadly it would have only led to him being placed in foster care much sooner.

  The form teacher who had given evidence on what had taken place that terrible day, had broken down sobbing in Court as she described the events. She left the school at the end of that term and was never heard of again. If you are finding this hard to believe, then I cannot blame you. I would not have believed it myself, had I not lived it. Had anyone told me eight years ago that our simple little life would turn into this Kafkaesque nightmare of endless pain, I would have told them that it was not possible. Even more so, that my son and I would spend even one day without being able to tell each other we loved each other, that I would live in a world without him, without being able to hug him, comfort him or even stand proudly on the side of a rugby match cheering him on, I would have told them they had lost their mind. It couldn't happen. How then, could I blame anyone for not accepting that this not only happened to us, but has happened to thousands of women in Britain today and many more children.

  I had attended only three events at M's current school, before I was denied going to anything else. The school had decided that I could only come if R gave his consent and naturally, nearly every time, he refused. In many respects it would have been better if M had been at a State School because they are forced by law to comply with parents rights. Public Schools, such as the all boys one that M attended, could largely do what they liked. Their land was private and they could say who came onto it - or not. Pleas to them to allow me to even attend Parents Evenings where M would not even be present, were refused - always on the basis that their contract was with the father and not myself and that they must adhere to his wishes.

  At a meeting with the Head of the Prep School which I had attended with my local vicar, I asked them if they had ever denied a parent attendance at the school on any grounds, as clearly we could not be the only parents who were not together. They admitted that they had not. I had been singled out once again for the worst treatment possible and all to help R in his mission to exclude me from R's life. How did they equate that with what they knew had taken place between M and I in the CP officer's room that day? I will never know. It did say a great deal about the school though. They were driven by money and not the best interests of the child.

  The three events I had attended were M's first Sports Day, shortly after contact was stopped, one rugby game at the school and an away rugby match at a different school.

  I had been shocked when I discovered that the parents at the school were surprised when I introduced myself as M's mum. They were labouring under the false belief that R's wife was his mother. They were astonished to find that this was not the case and as soon as I began talking to anyone - albeit only by way of pleasantries, R's wife would swoop in and pull the parent away.

  Even under the enormous stress of my situation, I have always been sociable but I was being further and further ostracised and it seemed nothing would ever be allowed to me that gave me any access to my son's life at all. It was ludicrous. I was not considered a danger to him, I had never created any kind of scene anywhere and whilst I could never be friends with the woman who had supported a paedophile in taking my son from me - I was
civil to her on the few occasions I had the opportunity to be so. She, in turn, treated me with thinly disguised contempt and patronising hostility. I was out in the cold and she was determined I would stay that way.

  At the first match I attended which was away from the school, neither R nor his wife had been present and I had talked freely to a few of the parents without giving away anything about the situation. This was not easy either as they clearly must have wondered why I was not a more frequent visitor to the various events. One can hardly open up to relative strangers about a situation as complicated as the one we were now in and especially not standing on the sidelines of a rugby match.

  I had just been pleased to attend the game at all. I had hoped to see M but he had clearly been primed not to speak to me and I only managed a few brief words with him after the game. He acted as if he feared the consequences of engaging with me at all and it cut me to the quick to see him behaving totally out of character. He was barely recognisable as the child I had held in my arms, nurtured and loved.

  Those Halcyon days of his first seven years were far away and long ago. The many times he had crawled into my bed and cuddled up to me to be close to Mummy were a distant but vivid memory. I wondered if the cold hard woman who had usurped my role - gave him even a fraction of what I had provided in love and care. How could she love my son the way I had, when he was not her own? I somehow doubted that she gave him much affection, but for M's sake, I had to hope that she found something in her that made her look at M as a child and not a pawn in the cruel game his father was playing and that however she came across towards me, she would, as a mother herself, show M some love. Her children were grown up and she had grandchildren. She was older than I and older than R and had come from a very different background to myself. She appeared to enjoy the status of being a "mother" at a public school and I found it slightly ridiculous that on the two occasions we ran into each other at these events, she was dressed more for a day at the races than for standing on the sidelines of a rugby field. Perhaps that makes me sound bitter and judgmental - probably, but I could never respect anyone who had played any part in the destruction of my life with M. Her true character as a person was unknown to me. I had only seen her a few times and only for moments each time but she made her contempt for me blatant and took pride in her new role as "M's Mother" - a role that was a fictitious as it was cruel.

  I had formerly been damned by the Guardian in the Island's Courts for writing fiction novels. The fact that I had been to Drama School in my twenties was also used to suggest that I was someone who was capable of fabrication and deceit. If those things made me someone not to be trusted, then one would have to round up the children of all those who are writers or actors and say they were unfit parents. Clearly that would be insanity - but to suggest that my ability to write a few novels, and a long lost dream to make a career as an actor, which I had never really achieved, made me both duplicitous and lacking veracity. Can one honestly say that makes any logical sense at all?

  I took M's photo when he was playing rugby so that I would have a memento. It was a rare opportunity to have a recent picture of him. As M's wife had witnessed me taking the pictures from the side of the field, this would naturally be used against me at a later date to imply that I had been deliberately gaining evidence. What proud parent does not take photos of their children at school events? It seemed nothing I did would ever be taken in the spirit in which it was attended.

  As I wasn't driving, I was delighted when a father of one of the boy's had offered to drop me home. I had been chatting to him whilst we awaited the start of the game and as I had had to take a train and taxis to get there at all, my driving ban still with a year to run, I had been very grateful not only for the company but the lift. Even then, I did not discuss what had led to M no longer living with me. I told him that there was an ongoing custody battle but nothing more and only that to explain why I had not been seen at any other school events. I did not want him to think that it was my choice not to support my son, but I expected that both parents and M alike, may have been led to believe that by R and his wife. I was painted further and further into a corner from which there was no way back.

  I had not been able to get M's expression out of my mind that evening. It had been wonderful to see him but heartbreaking to note the change in him. It was as if the light had gone out of his eyes. He had looked pale and sad and terribly tired, but I had had no real opportunity to ascertain how he really was. I could only observe the staggering change and be concerned.

  I had longed to sweep him up in my arms and hold him tight, but I had had to settle for telling him how well he had done and how proud I was, before he disappeared into the sea of boys heading into the school hall to eat after the match. On leaving the school, I had managed to say a quick goodbye and he had barely looked at me. I had no way of knowing what had caused the change but I knew it had more to do with his father than himself.

  A child cannot simply forget the first seven years of his life and I had to believe that JS would realise that any change in him could only come from being influenced or threatened or both.

  Christopher was convinced that any judge worthy of the title would see through the facade that was being presented as M's true wishes and was still adamant that the former Judge's view that he should have both of his natural parents in his life, would stand. After all, he had given residency to R on the basis that he saw him as more likely to promote contact than myself. How ironic his Judgment had been. Anyone with a grain of common sense would realise that a man whose former partner has accused him of child abuse, would do all in his power to punish and hurt that person -even if in reality it was not myself but our former GP who had reported the abuse to Social Services and despite the fact that M himself had alleged the abuse. I had merely been the messenger, but I was in no doubt nonetheless that M had been telling the truth. Children of five which was the age he first disclosed to me, cannot make up sexual abuse.

  During the drive home from the match, the man who had so kindly offered me a lift back, told me that he was going to the next game and offered to pick me up. He worked at a hospital near me and he and his wife, whom I had also met at the event, seemed like potential friends. I was very grateful that someone had reached out to me and in fact, I believed, had I been given the opportunity, I would have made quite a few friends through the school.

  Being new in the area, it would have seriously helped me cope with the desperate loneliness I lived with had I been able to build any relationships with parents but sadly when the next match came, which was at M's school and the only other one I was permitted to attend, the father who gave me a lift made an excuse and I knew he had been got at.

  This was confirmed when R's wife had collared him at the game and ensured he sat as far away from me as possible at the long refectory tables that were set up for coffee after the event. I watched sadly as I saw them head to head in conversation and then he had given me a long hard look, which betrayed the fact that I had been described as a monster. He had been very quiet on the return journey. In the few moments I had seen M after the game on that day, the match at the school, R's wife had grabbed him firmly by the hand and led him away so that I could not say a proper goodbye. As I saw them disappear into the distance, I realised that she too was claiming ownership of what was not hers.

  Sports Day was the last event I saw my son participate in. Having spoken recently to my mum's old friends, Jim and Margaret, he had kindly offered to drive over and go with me. I was grateful for the support and I asked him to take a few photographs, fearing doing so myself.

  On this occasion I had no chance to speak to M at all. I saw him only briefly as he waited with his friends to start the day. He again was a different child to the one I had raised and barely acknowledged me this time. I suspected he was afraid that his father may arrive any moment and would see him talking to me and be angry. I waved at him from a distance and he gave a little wave back but other than that, I
had no contact with him. That wave was to mean more than I could have imagined.

  M did well in the athletics events as always. I fully expected his father to attend and was thus surprised when he did not show up to support him. M had always excelled at running and had had won the year cup three times for Sports at his previous school. Whilst this time, he came in the top three and did very well, he seemed to lack the confidence and drive that he had had before. I could not congratulate him because he was swept away by M's wife as soon as the event was over.

  Jim's photos were all I had to mark the day and I was very glad of those, but it was quite frankly laughable when his father suggested in Court that Jim was a photographer from the press - especially as Jim is well past retirement age. That this was even debated showed just how ridiculous matters can turn in a Family Court hearing - behind closed doors. There were so many examples during the three day hearing of the most ridiculous allegations and distortions of truth, that to any outsider, would have been impossible to believe.