The Beck and Janner situation - a witness account

Very frequent visitor on firefox UK, would you like to discuss this post at all? leave a comment if so.


Here Goes. I will tell what I remember, splintered as it is.
It gets a bit more coherent and serious further on, it starts with the splintered memories of a young autistic Child in quite unsettled circumstances. 
Futher on, this autistic child was 12 or 13 and remembers more, but I wish there was a journal, a family member or any supporting account to fill in the gaps, but there isn't.

The Church of England, as they do, will probably be insulting and make me out to be mad, but this story, and my full story in the 'Pages' section of the blog, are the reason I ended up on the Church of ENgland's doorstep, severely damaged and vulnerable to their abusive systems and abusers who they protect at the expense of Victims, see the articles about Lady Butler-Sloss and Bishop Ball.

I will omit some names and will include others but without any accusations, I am telling what I remember.
This story is partly to show how far the impact of abuse and cover ups by authorities can reach, as, not a direct victim of the pervert MPs, I was still affected by the war over the abuse and cover-ups that went on.
The story is not statement of fact, it is me recalling what I remember seeing, hearing and living through.

I am not recording anyone innocent or guilty, what I am doing now, is telling you what I lived through, now enabled to do so by the recent publicising of the matter, having had to keep silent for years because people like me were always treated as mad over matters like this.

Leicestershire, 1984-1988, council sink estate, very rough, gangs, violence, illegal motorbikes etc, hallmark Leicester sink estate, one of a number. For my American readers a 'Sink Estate' is a very run down and crime ridden and badly maintained council housing area.

Leicester was the City of the sink estates, and a theory was or is, that it was kept that way so that a supply of vulnerable and voiceless children were available.

I was a young child when I first heard my mum talking about MPs kerb crawling and members of the local council being involved.

I remember one name regarding this matter, and his name came up repeatedly, he was, as far as I know, a local councillor, but I can find very little about him in any internet search, such a person exists, but information is removed/missing/not available.

Another name was mentioned later on in the 1984-1988 period of time, this name is currently in the press a lot with his noise regarding missing files, and his name came up again later in the 1990s part of this story. He has a string of alledged misconducts on his record that he has always escaped action for, and I guess his reason for wanting the missing files is to obliterate any necessary evidence.

My parents were fighting a war regarding this alledged kerb crawling and misconduct by local government figures, and they were fighting a losing war because no-one would listen, no one would act, and no-one believed them, my parents belief system and the structure of my family went against them, their habit of cursing spirits, their ways of keeping us from school, medical help or any authority intervention went against them, as well as the fact that all ears in police, parliment and other authorities were closed.

My family suffered ongoing severe violence during the 1984-1988 period, and I remember a firework being put through the letterbox, I remember numerous violent attacks on us and our house, and my parents said this was because of them reporting the kerb crawling and misconduct of local government members.
I have no solid link between the two matters, so I will call an open verdict, it was a rough estate and my family were a closed cult, would we have been left alone if my parents had not fought the alledged kerb crawling and misconduct? I don't know, but a re-inactment in the 90s of this war, more serious, much clearer to me, and the same allegations and even worse violence, was it co-incidence or not?

Anyway, so, in a family where sex was taboo, we learned words like 'rent-boys' and 'kerb-crawling' at an early age, as my parents fought the police and government.
Now back then, and even in the 90s, people like my parents were silenced at all costs, made to look not credible by police and council actions, and we did suffer terribly with violence against us and council and police allegations and battles.
My parents went to court a lot, not so much in the 80s, but a lot more in the 90s, to the point of neglecting us children somewhat, well there were 15 siblings, how can you raise us and be out at court all the time?

Anyway, so in 1988, we left Leicestershire, and all I had known for the first years of my life was violence and stress, not good, I was also undiagnosed autistic and possibly brain damaged from various injuries that never received medical help. I was already very damaged.
Things didn't get better as we fled Leicestershire and ended up homeless.

Jump to the early 90s, returning to Leicester, homeless, my family were housed on a Leicester sink estate, even worse than the one we escaped in 1988.
And this is where it all really kicked off.

We were in the constituency of Leicester West MP, Greville Janner, and, although I have no memory of the link between him in the past and him in the 90s and my family, he was apparently one of the people who my parents had a complaint against, he was one of the 'kerb-crawlers'. From the 80s.
This was according to my mother, this is not me alledging anything.

My parents believed it was 'God's will' That we had come back here to refresh this fight.

Right, well this is the most traumatic year of my life, in the early 90s and I am struggling to recall it to you.

My parents soon fell out with the neighbours on the new sink estate because my parents reported criminal activity, which is not the done thing on a sink estate, you keep your head down if you want to survive, a bit like when you are a rough sleeper :)
Anyway, among the incidents, my parents had got to know a family up the road called the 'G' family, A man called SG, his Mother, and a 13 year old boy, 'AG'.
Before long, my Mother said that SG was abusing AG and selling him for sex, and also that SG had a relationship with Greville Janner.
I have to say, I have no idea of the truth of this, but I was 12 years old.
As you can imagine, even this indirect situation is not great for the mind of a 12 year old, and I had lived 12 years of unsettled and harmful life already. 

Anyway. So this family and my family were clashing, and generally on a very bad sink estate, my family was attracting negative attention.
The situation became increasingly violent, and the severeity of the worst of the violence has scarred me for life, but I will return to trying to focus on the MP and cover up situation.

It is difficult to go back to being a traumatized 12 year old and put everything in order.

This is what I remember my parents saying.
They said that Greville Janner had framed a man called Frank Beck.

They said that Janner was responsible for the abuse and that the children abused had not known the difference between the two men.
They talked about someone being murdered at a children's home, and about the body being removed at night, I know no more about that.
My mum often spoke of Janner kerb crawling and using rent boys.
She mentioned the Holiday Inn as a venue for people using rent boys.

My parents again linked the violence we were suffering on the estate to the MPs and cover ups.

The matter of Janner and Beck was the main topic of conversation in our home, although, again, I do not recall as much as I now wish I did.

My parents were now locked in court battles again.

My Mum spoke of a care home boy, I am not sure I can name him, although he is named in the press a lot, according to my mum, this young man was being abused by Janner, and Frank Beck was putting a stop to it, my mum talked about Jannner taking this boy a bike, and Frank Beck not allowing him in to see the boy.

My mum got to know Frank Beck, she would visit him in prison, and she and I would cycle accross the city to visit the lady that Frank Beck was engaged to, I probably shouldn't name her, I will call her 'D', and she lived with a lodger, who also joined the conversation, while I played with Theo, the cat, and was told not to play with the cactus as it was dangerous.

I remember not really knowing what Mum and D and the lodger were talking about but I remember D. saying how she would like to paint on every bridge in Leicester 'Frank Beck is innocent!'.

I remember my parents fighting the police to do something about the violence we were suffering and also to do something about the Beck and Janner situation.

My Mum told us that the police were 'In Janner's pockets' which used to make us laugh at the image, but she told us it meant that they were on his payroll, did as he wanted in return for bribes.

Then my Mum got in a state of excitement because there was to be an investigation.
An officer called Chief Inspector Foster, of West Mercia Police, was to come and investigate the Beck and Janner matter.

My mum spent quite some time giving evidence. I am not sure now if she had to go to Charles Street or our local police station, but I remember during this time she took me to the local police station when I was shot with air rifle pellets on the estate, there was nothing for the police doctor to see, and my mum hadn't checked that I wasn't really wounded just pinged, but during that time the police acted co-operative and interested in our situation.

Anyway, unfortunately the Doctor Foster, as we called him, investigation, turned out to be a whitewash. Well, can anyone name a genuine investigation into such an issue during the 80s or 90s? No one who valued their job, life and home would dare!
Our lives were being wrecked because of this matter!

Frank was moved to a prison in Cambridge, Mum still went to visit him, she also spent a lot of time with his law firm, who were also our law firm, Ian Henning was the man holding evidence on the matter, and Mum often also spoke to John Harrison, who worked for the firm.

We had something to fear from  a legendary bunch of thugs called 'Grevvies Heavies', his protection brigade, thankfully I never met them, have no knowledge if they were even real.
But my parents said we were marked for reporting Janner, and we were at risk.
All I know is that we were at risk from constant and severe violence on the estate and that was real and has marked me for life, I had a breakdown when I was 12, and I believe that is why I have never really grown up properly.

I remember the time I ran to the police station to get help as we had no phone, and the police wouldn't always help, and I got chased by gang members and in fear of my life, I was lucky or God protected me.

I remember my mum pointing out a picture in the Leicester Mercury, Greville Janner making someone or something levitate, she talked about the 'magic circle' and how Greville's wife, in the background 'knew' about him.

We fled the Council estate amid escalating violence as more serious injuries occured.
We fled to a homeless hostel within a few miles of the house.
My parents and brothers were arrested.


I cannot give you much understanding but my mum says it was about speaking up about Janner, while the charges were about retaliating to violence on the estate.
Now, flash-forward to Jersey, same thing.

And in this flash-forward to me and Jersey, lets go into the police station that causes me to collapse or have nightmares.

In the police station in Leicester, my dad recounted that the police were knocking a drunk man about, and he knew the police intended him harm too.

My dad recalled how he walked round and round his cell, singing praise to God all night, and God protected him and didn't allow him to be harmed.
Unfortunately for me, I was already in collapse when Jersey police brutalized me, I could not stand, walk or sing, I was not fully conscious and could not, with all my effort, wake properly, but I flashed back to my Dad, singing praises to God all night in his cell, when he was imprisoned because of Greville Janner. In the police cell in Jersey, imprisoned because of the wrongdoing of the diocese of Winchester and the Deanery of Jersey,
 I cried out to my dad, 'Abba? Abba, eyphoh?' In Hebrew, the language my parents preferred us to speak, that was 'Dad, Dad, where are you?' 
But my Dad had died of a stroke a year before I was imprisoned.

Back to Leicester in the early 90s.

My parents and brothers were released and we spent 9 months in the homeless hostel, which was rough istelf, all ex-prisoners, dealers, addicts and other bad characters. This is when my younger brothers started to become deviant and delinquent, and I was now elective mute, severely traumatised as my parents continued to fight court cases and my sister, age 14 and myself now 13, were put in a separate unit from our parents in the hostel, placed with unfamiliar and badly behaved adults.

My mum and Frank's fiance, and Ian Henning, continued to fight Frank's case.
But sadly, one day, my mum, in tears, told us Frank had died suddenly while playing table tennis in prison. She said it had been sudden, and that he was a happy man, looking forward to his appeal.

Then, later, she and others, claimed Frank had been murdered.

Frank's funeral was at Gilroes crematorium, not far from us, my brother and I used to deliver newspapers round that area. My mum and brothers attended, and then Mum went to Dartmoor, where Frank's ashes were scattered on Hay Tor. Because Frank had liked dartmoor, was he in Dartmoor prison at one point?

Anyway, Ian Henning still held evidence, and so the matter wasn't over.

Ian Henning was killed in a motorbike 'accident'.

My mum said Ian was murdered because he held the evidence. She said his bike was sabotaged.
This was never confirmed. The police, if they were on Janner's side, would of course not be willing to investigate.

I remember Ian only vaguely, grey hair and white shirt, we used to sometimes sit in his office on hot Leicester afternoons.

After Frank's death, D, his fiance, was no longer interested in fighting for Greville Janner to be dealt with, her part had been merely to see the man who she loved, freed.

The MP mentioned in the early part of this statement, who I will call KV, was consulted by my parents over the Janner matter, but seemed to be involved/obstructing investigations.

With Ian's death, the beck and Janner war was closed down, Ian was the last evidence holder.
And my family had now fled to the ghettos of another city, and our parents warned us that if we valued our lives, we would never again speak of the Beck and Janner matter.

Well. My life is crippled by the Church of England, who re-enacted the Beack and Janner war through the Diocese and Deanery war, and destroyed as I am, and with everyone speaking out, I am no longer afraid to speak, and after 22 years, it is good to share, to get the darkness in my injured mind out into the open.

It is time the culture of cover-ups ends, Church of England, police and politicians, it is time and it is out in the open, expose this scheme of covering up for important people at the expense of the vulnerable wronged. It is time for police, parliment, Church, social services and all authorities to change, stop making genuine comeplaints into insanity on the part of the complainants.
No more Steel-Sloss-Bailhache-Janner-Foster etc etc cover ups.

Here is my enduring memory of the Leicester sink estate 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FaN1YYNILUI

Answer to Request -chronology

• 1981 Born, home Birth, not correctly registered
• 1981-1998 grew up in travelling cult society that was opposed to all authorities especially schools, social services and the medical profession.
• 1998 left home with no understanding of how to live in the real word, vulnerable, hostile from years of violence, and struggled to fit in at college.
• 1999 passed first year of college successfully and was put on a course level that was too high for me for the next academic year.
• Christmas 2000, dropped out of college, struggling too much on a course I was not ready for, and was thus homeless and reliant on a low income of income support.
• February 2001, JM's husband finally agreed to her wish to have me to stay with them until I could find a suitable home. JM's husband, FM abused me while I was vulnerable on anti-depressants and reacting badly to them.
• March 2001, JM left me in a 'community' in Dorset, where I was overlooked and lost and wandered off, no-one acknowledged me and I knew I had no place there, as I had no ability to be in such a community.
• March 2001, a huge row broke out over the abuse, I asked to leave the house and JM put me in a bed and breakfast while we waited for my place at the sheltered house to come up.
• Easter 2001, moved to the sheltered house.
• Summer 2001, moved from the sheltered house to the flat
• Summer 2001, took a work placement
• Autumn 2001, returned to the college part time
• Winter 2001, started work
• Winter 2001, moved to the bedsit nearer to work
• 2001-2003 lived and worked independently in that town
• 2003, returned to Winchester to live and work
• 2003-2005, took a tied cottage  job, first of 2
• 2005, took second tied cottage job.
• Autumn 2006-Summer 2007, returned to college full time and completed the course I had had to leave previously, with top grades
• Summer 2007, moved to Jersey to work in what was supposed to be a summer job before going to the grape harvest in France and onwards.
• Autumn 2007, persuaded to stay on by the churchwarden in Jersey.
• Winter 2007, churchwarden moved me to his home, against his wife's wishes, abuse already starting but I was not really realising that.
• Winter 2007-spring 2008, sexual and emotional abuse left me ill and upset, as evidenced in emails, 
• Spring 2008, moved to lodgings, not a safe or healthy lodgings, churchwarden and his wife continued to hurt me
• Summer/Autumn 2008, increasingly concerned about what had gone on and the hint that the churchwarden has misbehaved elsewhere a number of times, I looked at reporting him, I was devastated and psychologically harmed by having been regressed and abused when the churchwarden had called me his 'daughter' and I thought I had found the family I had prayed for, but instead had been abused and left alone, regressed and very damaged by this regression which the churchwarden referred to as healing, because my original childhood meant that regressing me to childhood again as he did, was very dangerous, and, believe me it did mad things to my head. If anyone wonders why I went mad, that is why. I was put back in the land of shadows.

to be continued when I can cope.

Please note

The Chronologies being published are being moved from the main blog to 'pages' on the sidebar or below the blog, to allow the main blog to continue to be regenerated.

http://whatreallyhappenedinthechurch.blogspot.co.uk/p/blog-page_19.html#.U3p8JdJdXJk

http://whatreallyhappenedinthechurch.blogspot.co.uk/p/hgs-late-teens-and-early-adulthood.html#.U3p729JdXJk

And a thought, this chronology takes you up to age19, if I had been intending to be a troublemaker, that would have been established by then. I was a very lost confused person, not a troublemaker and not dishonest, I was trying to make my way in the world.

Email to the Lihous after a miserable stay with them on a visit to the UK in October 2008

This was an email to the Lihous after I went to stay with them on a visit to Hampshire from Jersey, the visit was miserable for me, and this email was sent as a result.

At that time I still did not really understand boundaries, didn't know how to end a friendship or that I could just walk away if they refused a meeti8ng as they did, but when the Lihous were visiting Jersey, they had persuaded me to go and stay with them when they heard I was coming back to visit friends in Hampshire and Dorset.

The mention of Ken and the Bike, Ken was a retired priest in George and Jill's village in Hampshire, George and Jill once got him to do a disasterous 'healing' session with me, which sent me mad with distress, but Ken also lent me a bike when I was at college in Dorset, which seemed to have gone missing but actually the caretakers at college had thought it was abandoned and so I collected it from their care in November and returned it to Ken.

(funnily enough my friend J. who the diocese and Deanery never mention, provided much more healing than Ken, just by being my friend, and she and I never fell out, but the Diocese never mention the good, only the bad, and becuse so many of my friends were in the CofE, the Diocese in having me put in prison and getting their story put about, made most of my good into bad).

From:	**** ******(*********@hotmail.co.uk)
Sent:	12 October 2007 10:18:39
To:	*****@homecall.co.uk

Hi,
I don't know why our friendship hurts and collapses, I know that God loves us all, but we never came back from what happened, the pain all came back when I saw you and that is sad because, we are all forgiven, but the horror and anguish of that night when George lost his temper went very deep, and the shame of having to repeatedly apologize and being prepared to be within new boundaries, when George didn't apologize or explain or se tor agree a boundary to stop it happening again, wrecked what was left of the trust after Paul. I do love you, but the hurt is still hitting me, and I do live with other consequences of that night. So God bless you and keep you.

I have sent you a cheque, it may be delayed by backlog. Don't let anything that has happened hurt you, I love you, I have been traumatized and injured, I can't put myself in that risky situation again. I will be in touch with Ken shortly to arrange bike or recompense for bike.

Please could you acknowledge receipt of cheque, by post or on mobile- ***** ******, its a Jersey airtel, so not sure of cost from UK phone yet, its cheap for me to ring uk though, but not sure if you can text me from your phone, the emails from you never got through, nor has any post if you have sent any recently.

May God bless you and your family always,

******

Not all bad then, a reference sent to Bob Hill last year to clarify how I am

It is notable that less problems occur with friends who allow me space and do not panic when I can't cope, and who do not get involved intensely or as a panacea for their own troubles. This couple are admirable in what they have done for me when everyone and everything else was hurting me as a result of Diocese actions

Mrs ****** *******

* ****** Road

******* *****

******** *****

**** ***

Tel. ********

Dear Mr Hill

A reference for ****** *****

I have known ***** now for over 2 years. We first met in St ******* ** church. she had come in for a warm. We chatted for a while and told me she was homeless. so I invited her to come home with us (my husband ******) for a bite to eat. Since then we have become close friends, she stays often stays over night.

During this time she has spoken of her past. It's quite amazing that she pushed herself through College and

gained a certificate in Agriculture and Horticulture after such a volatile childhood, I so admire her.

With a combination of Asperges, Autism and Asthma there comes frustration of not being able to express

ones feelings and comprehend a situation which invitably results in anger and fear.

*******'s experience in Jersey  damaged her profoundly she is stuggling to cope. She desparetly needs a voice. Until the 'Jersey' incident is addressed properly and investigated in depth, I believe she will continue to be a vunerable and frieghtened young woman. Her plight is getting considerably worse.

******'s manners are first class, she's respectful and never askes for anything, is totally trustworthy and honest. I know she's very caring and gentle as she gives her fellow homeless companions a shoulder to cry on, she listens.......I pray that someone will listen to her

Yours Sincerly

Mrs ******* ******

an addition to the 'lets go back' posts/anything and everything

When I arrived in Jersey, I was exhausted by Jill and George and college and life.
The Day before I set off for Jersey, Jill and George were away, but I had returned to Hampshire to see my friends and say goodbye, as I didn't know when I was going to be back.

I did some gardening for Jill and George's neighbours, Elizabeth and Richard, who I occasionally gardened for. They were trying, as people repeatedly do, even recently, to get me to live in a 'communiuty' in Dorset. And sadly claiming that 'God had brought the Idea to them'.
These evangelical uses of God injure vulnerable people, because you are trapped by the claim that God endorses something or disapproves, even when He doesn't, and Elizabeth and Richard were lovely people.

Basically, I hated Dorset, and after my experience of Pilsdon, and my upbringing, and now my experience of the Church of England! Putting me in a community, where I would feel Godded and crowded, would be a terrible experience for me and for other community members.
Now in my life, I am aware that the only thing that keeps me steady is long hours of solitude, which is a life sentence, because humans who are not psychopathic, and I am not, naturally desire company, even on the Autistic Spectrum and with attachment disorder. I am a paradox, because I actually am very happy alone, but also have the need for other people around me at least sometimes.

I am currently restructuring my life because I do not benefit from the Tuesday socials that I have gone to for years, and I also sadly decided that my attachment disorder was hurting some of my closest friends and I did not want another George and Jill situation, so I told those friends as best I could, that I needed space.

Socialization is healthy and necessary, but my situation is far from normal, because in my friendships I carry the extra burden of fear of the diocese and the wait for the day they next intervene or shame me in the press, and it means I do nor feel I can be me in a friendship but will eventaully be represented to those friends by the Diocese, as happened in Winchester and also with the release of the Korris report.
This magnifies the attachment disorder greatly and has meant I have left or ended friendships, which leaves me more wounded and unsure of myself. My self-esteem and confidence in my friendship ability is nil.
This is not to say I have kicked all my friends out.

Anyway, back to the move to Jersey.
I moved to Jersey and requested space, from everyone, for the first time in my life, I did not know or understand the 'space boundary' although now I live behind the 'space boundary' and no-one can find me, get near me or be with me.

A few weeks after moving to Jersey, after thirstily drinking the space and solitude, I made contact with my friends, those in L, first, letting SL know I was ok and giving her my phone number, then JM, and we exchanged some banter, and Anne, of course.
I didn't really feel close to people in George and Jill's village, although I wrote to Elizabeth and my friend J.

My friends in Winchester said that they would see me when they came over to Jersey, as they had family there, who I knew vaguely. But I didn't make contact with George and Jill for some time after I moved to Jersey, and once I was feeling happier and loving being in Jersey, I made contact with them.
George said they had sent me emails and I said I hadn't got anything from them. I unblocked their email but even when they said they had sent things, I never got anything from them by email, some error there.

I never really recovered from George and Jill, and it continued to be rocky, with me asking about why George had chased me and shouted at me, and getting a reply lecturing me for lack of forgiveness, apparently he though the correct reply was that when he had muttered sorry when Jill had confronted him, he was forgiven by God and thus my hurt did not matter, it is funny how the evangelicals work, because I am apparently not forgiven for my side of things and instead have been villified, stoned by the Jersey Deanery who have used the Lihous against me! My apologies and confessions are indeed useless and an insencere apology from George when confronted by Jill after he hid what he did, means he is forgiven and thus I have no right to be hurt?!

Anway, the Lihous had that opinion, and wrote to me saying so, and also sending me a boast, some chocolate from Switzerland, which melted in the post and cost me a pound that I could not afford, because Jill had not put enough postage on it.
So, in Jersey, this 'friendship' struggled on.

The Churchwarden wanted to meet the Lihous while I was 'in his care', the Lihous had come over to see the Warrens and had arranged to see me, funnily enough, the same week as my friends from Winchester were over to see their Jersey family, so it was a lovely busy week, seeing all my friends from the past.


So the churchwarden met the Lihous, and he was holding me posessively all the time we talked.
And then I went off to spend time with the Lihous, and the usual spiel of boasting started, I actually said it out loud 'Do we have to play one-upmanship?' when it came to talking about boats because we were down at the harbour, and they were going on about the churchwarden's boat and wanted to go on about Phil Warren's boat.
For goodness sake! It's a boat! It does not make a person a better person, and no, we do not sail to France!
I do not understand people who need everything to be about posessions and acheivement, one of my greatest joys was being homeless and only owning what was in my backpack and lying on the ground looking at the stars.
You can't be closer to God than relying on him for supper when you have nothing.

Anyway, so this was in Jersey, in the autumn of 2007, and I was already suffering the churchwarden's attentions, but Jill and George heard that I was coming to the mainland and wanted me to stay with them, when I had been due to stay with JM.
Note, both the Lihous and JM were still my friends and asking me to stay in the autumn of 2007.
Funny how it is turned around to me supposedly abusing them, by the Dean and his supporters, isn't it?
JM ceased to be my friend when she started actively supporting the Dean and the churchwarden couple when her husband's abuse of me was brought up and they collectively labelled me a lying troublemaker, and the Lihous friendship ended after I had yet another miserable stay with them and asked them to meet me with someone else for a conclusion, which they didn't.

And I remain publicly stoned and unforgiven, no matter how much I cry that I am sorry for my side of things, and yet, no-one else is sorry, they hide their wrongs in my reactions and are absolved.

lets go back 38 -concludes my story from leaving my family to going to Jersey. A bit long-winded

‘I will not boast in anything
No Yorkshire no Channel Islands no Switzerland
For Christ has given all of this and didn’t say abuse me
I will not be so insecure
Boast about my family
For Christ has given all of this
And I'm as good as you are

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=e9FG12eTSbI

A few days after the incident in Dorset I went back to Hampshire to stay with friends, I went to see George and Jill to apologize, it took me hours to reassure myself that I could go and see them, and it was a bad idea.

I went to their door and George told me I had no right to be there in Hampshire and why was I wasting my money coming to Hampshire when I had no money, he told me that Jill was sitting in the kitchen shaking because I had turned up, I told him that I had come to apologise, and that I was upset too, that they were hurting me too and I was shaking too, but George was mad angry and chased after me shouting at me, which sent me into complete panic, I ended up being picked up by the police about a mile away, and taken to the police station because they thought I was mentally ill or suicidal.

My car was full of rubbish because I had been so depressed over George and Jill that my car was worse than usual, and I had been incoherent and in a desperate state of mind because of George shouting and coming after me and saying it was all me and that I made Jill ill, in reality Jill has been ill for many many years and made herself ill by involving herself the way she had, and they are both responsible for the mental torture of the boasting when they had been asked to refrain, but I was the one who suffered, suffered terribly for my reaction to their boasting.

The firsy police brutalization courtsey of the Diocese without safeguarding.

I was in a police cell, having been manhandled and bruised because I was frozen with terror, I had never been in a police cell before and was horrified and ashamed, I was sick and sick again in the toilet in he cell, I lay on the cell floor shaking, I had never been in trouble, I had never meant any bad to anyone, and I was terrified of being locked up and trapped, in the early hours I saw a police doctor, and he said there was nothing wrong with me, and the policewoman who had determinedly dragged me to the police station was obviously disappointed, they were going to take me to get my car, which they had moved, but a violent incident broke out at the front of the police station over another person in the cells, his family were gathered outside accusing the police of racism, and so my departure was delayed, I asked the WPC for paper to draw on, she seemed astonished and asked why, I told her it would help me to stay calm, and I drew little pictures.

It was sometime in the early hours I got my car back, it had had little petrol in it and now had even less, this was a great worry as I had almost no money,

I went back to Overton and wrote a letter to Jill, it was a goodbye letter, I told her I was sorry for making her ill and all the rest of it, I think the letter must have puzzled her in some things as George did not tell her that he came after me and went for me. Then I somehow got back to Dorset on almost no petrol and fell into bed, when I finally woke up, I showed my landlady the massive bruise on my leg that was among police inflicted bruises, it was a stunning bruise when it came out, I tried to explain to Janet what had happened, and she told me about when one of her children had got into trouble with the police and they had phoned and asked if he was really dyslexic, she said he got into trouble a number of times, and it wasn’t surprising because of his early childhood.
I didn't really recover from how nasty and brutal the police had been, especially as I had done nothing wrong, they were vicious and injured me, apparently for the crime of sitting in my car feeling upset, and distressed about George and Jill and being autistic and not knowing how to respond to them when they startled me sitting there.

And this incident that injured me, was used against me by the police in Winchester in 2010 and 2011 to treat me as if I was mad and did not need protection against the Diocese's interference in my life.
I completely fail to understand why the police are allowed to violently punish someone for being distressed and what it acheives apart from more distress. I was not severely traumatised, by all my experiences.


I got an email from the Lihous in reply some days later saying that they did not consider the friendship over, nothing was said about George going for me, he obviously kept it very quiet, and so this tortured friendship remained there, half dead and distressing, with me unable to cope with it, Jill invited me to come and stay with them for a weekend, and I didn’t ask if she had gone barking mad, I just said no, I did not know she didn’t know about George, I did know I loved them and I was very damaged and my heart was breaking and that without their input I could not heal this relationship.

And they never did meet me halfway, they prayed about it, undoubtedly, but it was difficult to get them to talk with me about it, the only time Jill was willing to talk was shortly after the turned down invite when they continued to invite me, and I went to stay with them, but I couldn’t speak, I couldn’t settle, I couldn’t be in the same room as George, I was scared of him, and I kept being sick. I wanted to be there in the village though, I hated weekends in Dorset, and I loved to be at church, I loved the worship and loved to see the other people there, especially my friend J, she was always full of light and joy and smiles, she prayed with me and laughed with me and we discussed God and faith, J. is sweetness and light, she is an angel.

Isn't it funny how the Diocese and Deanery have tried to blot out, destroy or omit these good friendships during their public destroyal of me?

Jill did not know what was wrong when I ran away from George and was sick, Jill did not understand, so I told her it was about how George had smashed me down, and she had had no idea about it, she spoke to him when he got home from a meeting, and he muttered an apology and that was it, thinking about it, I do not fully understand my reaction because with FM’s rage I did not react as sharply, but I think the fact that I loved George (in the same way as I loved Jill) and I didn’t love FM, made a difference, and George was always a rock, a calm, solid person, I had trusted him, made a difference.
I also think George hiding what he had done and then muttering a very empty 'sorry' when Jill confronted him also left me shocked and without any faith in him.

The added trauma of the police incident on top of that left me very anxious and panicky.
But though we tried, the relationship was broken from then on, I was not comfortable with George after that, I couldn’t let him hug me, it was always a strain letting a man hug me anyway, neither (names redacted) ever hugged me, I think apart from *** occasionally hugging me hello or goodbye, no man hugged me.

 But the struggling friendship was on a downhill spiral and I make no pretence of not contributing to it, especially as I poked fun at George’s ‘Telly-worship’ sermons at church, where his preaching included everything he had heard on the news, right or wrong, other nonsense from TV programmes, with all the latest scares and buzz-words, I asked questions about why the church were encouraging people to be frightened and affected by worldly nonsense, why drag it into the church where Christ is King and the media shouldn’t be? Why take people’s mind from fear of God to fear of the world? Of course my blunt comments were not great, nor was listening to a sermon of recycled television drivel interdispersed with boasts about the family. But George was not a priest, he was a lay person, so there were many good sermons there too, and excellent worship.

I really did not know what to do with George and Jill, I lay awake every night with my heart breaking, praying, I also didn’t know how to come to terms with what had happened with Paul and , I wrote to Paul and I also went back to try and talk to him, but I never came to terms with the way he had let me down or the outcome on George and Jill, or my debts, I prayed, I prayed and prayed. Please God have mercy.

I continued to have such faith in God, but looking back at the endless ruins of 33 years, there is no sign of God's love, especially not in the Church of ENgland who have destroyed me.

I was invited to George and Jill’s for Christmas, I accepted as I had been offered some Christmas lambing work on an estate on the Hampshire border, I went to George and Jill’s, I think this was when Nigel and Sheree’s wedding was and then Nigel was retiring.

 The lambing was hard work and very anti-social hours, I was exhausted, my friendship with George and Jill was problematic, and this was when Jill and I had a row about how they had discussed me with Paul, they so very obviously had but had denied it, and Jill said she hadn’t wanted to hurt me with it, and I asked why they had lied about it, and why I was being made to look as if I was immoral.

 I was really depressed. Jill said how they could have had a grandson to stay if I wasn’t there, and I replied that it was up to them who stayed and I had accepted their invitation and if they wanted a grandson there then I was happy to go.

 I went back to college depressed, I had had a minor breakdown trying to look after the sheep and had fled from the job, the hard hard work, though I loved it, did not combine well with the emotional strain of my relationship with Jill and George.

 Before I left them I asked them to sit and talk things through and they for some reason picked a time I had gone to bed early and exhausted and said they had sat down there waiting for me to come and talk to them, so there was no sit down and talk (looking back, that can only be a cop-out), I left them to go back to Dorset and told them our relationship was not working so it had to end. The only good thing about that depressing Christmas was that I got a cheque for my lambing work.

The local vicar had got involved in mentoring me through the college, and at first I wondered if I was seeing a replay of the situation with JM, but she was only like JM in that she was overworked, she didn’t understand me and after a few sessions didn’t try to, she instead got me to help her prepare the children in church for taking communion, and got me to do gardening for her and her curate-to-be, I wasn’t too bothered, she gave me with a bit of cash here and there and helping with communion and also various things like the carol service in the old people’s home kept me occupied and useful.

I lost contact with her on leaving college. She was not JM, and her church was too dry for me and I didn’t settle there and they did not understand me, the churches in that part of Dorset were all too dry of charismatic, so I didn’t have a church in Dorset, especially as my landlady said it was a pity to waste time like that, and that the vicar was always too busy wasting time or something. She really didn't like her. So I continued to be a long distance member of the churches in Hampshire.

I dreamed one night of a light brown church next to a park, the dark pine trees in the park were lashing in the sea thundered beyond, a person was dead and their soul was flying above the church, the dream remained with me. I had never seen St. Andrew’s church before in my life, but that was St. Andrew’s church in Jersey, sometimes I have had dreams of the future during my life, this is not delusional, but also seems to serve no purpose in helping me with my future or avoiding problems.
 
One day on a farm practical I was wearing wellingtons, and was stood upon by a young bullock, he stood on my foot quite hard, and I tried to move my foot out from under his hoof, and ended up tearing the ligaments in my foot and ankle, the weak ankle, I didn’t realise straight away that I had hurt myself, but then I ended up limping, and with a semi-permentant problem with that ankle, the doctor told me I had torn it, and said to wear a support bandage and that it would take time to heal, and it did.
 I hadn’t reported it to the tutor at the time as I really didn’t realise how I had damaged it.

One day I got a letter from Inland revenue with a cheque in it, it was a cheque of enough to pay a few of the creditors missed payments, and the CAB were by now helping to get the payments to creditors manageable as well, so I went and bought some toiletries and some new shoes, I badly badly needed shoes, the pair I had were so worn that I was not walking well at all. I wore my new shoes as I walked down to the ferry port where there were special day trips being advertised, £10.99 trips to Jersey and Guernsey, wow, one up on the boastful overprivilaged, I could go out on the ferry that George and Jill’s family hated travelling on, I could go out across the sea! I could escape the misery of my struggling life in Dorset and go to these much boasted about Islands, and I could boast back! One up on the boastful overpriviledged!
Although I had told George and Jill I didn't want to speak to them.

I went aboard the boat, most nervous because it was all new, and I was a bit worried about how crowded it would be, It was ok, I found out I could go out on deck, I worried the poor stewards no end by staying out on deck all the way to Jersey, and they kept offering me blankets, it was cold, late winter and the speed of the wind makes it freezing, I love it, it brings my blood temperature down, someone else loved it too, a mysterious man appeared beside me, I am sure to this day I met an angel, he knew me, he knew farming, he knew I was nervous, he was not from the channel Islands or Dorset, but he told me that when I was tired on the way back that I could cuddle up in the play area and no one would disturb me, he was on the ferry to Jersey an on the way back, he was a happy harmless friendly person, and as we parted company at Weymouth that night, he kissed my hand, I cannot remember what it was he said or did that made me think he was an angel, but he helped me to relax and feel confident on this adventure.

I arrived in Jersey, I only had about four and a half hours between arrival and departure. I was amazed at how built up it was ‘You couldn’t see the island for buildings’ and I thought again ‘one up on the boastful overprivilaged, they are boasting about a floating conurbation!’

I walked up to a bus stop and asked a man what time the bus was for St. Lawrence, I wanted a photo of this place that the boasters went on about, so I could silence them by saying ‘this is what you are boasting about?’ yes these attitudes are not great are they? I am an idiot, but anyway, I found out that Jerseymen like to talk, and if you ask one the time they think you fancy them, this is a very real Jersey mentality, and is almost funny.  
Well maybe I was exaggerating, but they are a bit desparate and a bit self-absorbed.

I got to St. Lawrence, there was a light brown church, I wondered if this was the church from my dream, it was the right colour, I went to the church but it was locked, a man came hurrying up, and I recognised him from photo’s, I said to him, ‘are you the vicar? Can I look round your church?’ He said ‘it is normally locked by now, but you can have a quick look while I get something from in the church’.

I wrote in the visitor’s book, ‘Nice church but nothing to boast about’.
As the vicar was locking up, he asked where I was from, but I decided not to say, as I was tempted to, I didn’t tell him.
I did laugh a lot once I was away from there though.

I returned to Dorset that evening, I liked some of Jersey but also wondered why the Lihous boasted about it all the time.

During my time in Dorset, I was deeply sad and hurt by the Lihouse and I missed Hampshire a lot.
I used to listen to 'Goodbye my lover' by James Blunt, because I rewrote it, as I do.
As you may realise, I write and rewrite songs about practically every situation in my life.

 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wVyggTKDcOE

Back in Dorset, I was having more time off college because the other students had to train for a Tractor driving certificate that I already had, I also got a work experience job doing lambing, which both I and my tutors who informed me of the job thought was a paid job, but it wasn’t, but even so, it increased my confidence and and competence a lot, I enjoyed it, and was feeling a bit better, I also did lambing on the college farm and got good reports, it was all good.

the Lihous remained tricky, they never did stop boasting, and so time there was time to be demoralised, and I wasn’t getting to see my other friends enough, so one day Anne asked me if I would like to spend the weekend in L, and I said ‘yes please’, and what I remember was the relief of being in Anne’s house, in the kitchen chatting away, enjoying a cuppa, enjoying a good meal and the most comforting and comfortable night’s sleep in the little room, it was so peaceful, so far removed from the Lihous, it felt like I was home at last.
 Me not going to the Lihous at the weekends was my refusal now, not theirs, I brought my friendship with Jill and George to a sad and necessary close, though it was hard, hard beyond bearing, my heart was broken and my whole year at college had been disrupted by the Lihou situation.

I had loved my trip to Jersey, being out on the water for that length of time was thrilling, and despite warnings that it was going to be a rough journey, I clambered aboard the ferry again, and there I was in Jersey again, this time I went to St. Brelades, to the bay, to Corbiere, and to St. Ouens bay, it was when I was up at Corbiere that a strange thought came to me, it was about how maybe in a place like this I could grow away from my nervousness and make some sort of recovery, the thought of being there persisted and grew, the thought about living in Jersey, I was absolutely thrown by this thought, I knew it was not possible because of restrictions on residency and work, how could I move over here?

I was at college and then I was going back to my beloved Hampshire. I got back on the bus at Corbiere, I went down to St. Ouens Bay, something caught my eye as the bus stopped, Nurseries, I wasn’t going to get off there, but I did, I went in, wondering, and ended up talking to the manager and accepting a summer job which he offered, and he also helped me to look for accommodation, though it would be a few months before the job started.

I also managed a trip to Guernsey and even some piano practice in the meantime, just so I could join in the boastful overprivilaged’s conversation at almost their level if I met them again.
At my Birthday, George and Jill sent me a card, I was deeply upset and asked them why when our friendship was over and I had asked them not to make contact, because I needed to go cold turkey! I received no reply, I had blocked George’s email after he went mad, so they couldn’t email me, so the heartache was renewed.

I can't explain very well, but I have attachment disorder, and this affects attaching, maintaining a friendship and ending a friendship, with everything at extremes and no middle ground. But of course I didn't know that at the time.

College progressed, with my predicted qualifying grade being merit/distinction or double distinction, the highest grades possible despite my problems. I was amazed, I realised that despite everything I was likely to complete the course and graduate with high grades, that was all that mattered, and there I was with a summer job to go to as well, and then I would continue travelling, and it was excellent that I would start my world travel in the channel Islands and be able to return to Hampshire if being overseas didn’t work, and the channel Islands were very English, so that would show whether or not I was capable of travelling further, I am very able in some ways, but the grim reality of my disabilities weights on me and I am limited whether I like it or not, so the channel islands job was an excellent bit of news for me.

Jill and George came back into my life, slowly and carefully, I felt joyful and also resigned to the pain and distress that came with my relationship with them. I loved them more than I had ever loved anyone, but I was so hurt -  and so were they, we tried to talk, Jill tried to say something about ‘could we have a casual friendship’ but she was miswording it, and I was no better, knowing that a ‘casual friendship over such a distance was not possible’ but she explained that she meant could we have a friendship with less contact than before, ie her not phoning me all the time but once a month, and me coming to stay maybe once a month, this is where a huge communication problem had been;
 I was more than happy to be phoned whenever they liked and see them whenever they were free, my problem had been the change of boundaries behind my back with no discussion, they had hurt me and I had felt rejected and ashamed and confused, I had thought I was doing something wrong, I never asked them to have me to stay, I had not implemented the phonecalls, Jill had, and she had even got George to order me a new phone when mine broke, in order that she could still phone.

 Just compare as I did during that conversation, my then friendships with ( 7 names redacted), they did not phone me every week, I did not phone them every week, but my relationship with Jill and George was different, emotionally charged, raw love and hands on, I went along with them but could not cope, my relationships with the other friends were deeper, less emotional and more steady.

So here we were, ‘friends’ , but I never trusted George again. I stayed over with them, and again despite the agreement for me to stay once a month, Jill wanted me back twice in that month, I said no, I said keep to the boundaries, Lizzie  had taught me that because of how I am I need clear boundaries and to keep to them, that is how to avoid getting into conflicts, I stuck to that. When I went back to Jill and George next time, we went to church, and I took part in the service, I helped with the collection, I was a welcomer, I took part in the drama, when I went to sit down with Jill, she was crying, George came up and I looked at Jill crying, looked at George, fled and vomited, apparently Jill was crying because she was emotional about me helping out as I was, but I thought George was going to go mad, so I was frightened.

I was very emotionally strained, passing into the final stage of my course, struggling to make ends meet, and worried about my car, worried about my big move. Then Jill started going on and on about family, she said she had thought that what I had said about wanting to belong to a family meant I wanted to get married, even though she knew from asking before that it was not what I meant, I wanted somewhere to belong, to be accepted and loved, then she started talking about me being part of her family, but by then I was less than delighted with this, having just accepted our fragile emotional friendship, I could not suddenly leap into being family, and her family who she had discussed me with did not like me, her family in Jersey gave her incorrect advice on me, and her other family were there during that conflict and they happily discussed holidays and family in front of me in a way that totally alienated me, Jill could say I was ‘part of the family’ but she could not make it so, she could not make it so in the eyes of her family, and this hurt me, and I tried to go along with her but struggled, I remember when George openly accepted this ‘part of the family’ thing, and said ‘you have to eat all your pudding if you want to prove you are part of the family’.

Jill wrote to me, sending a ten pound note and saying she was looking forward to me being part of the family with her girls; but her girls didn’t like me because they heard one side of the emotional upsets and they never heard mine, and the advice they apparently gave about me did more harm than good.

But I was overwhelmed, and Jill told me I was ill, I told her so was she. I lost control of my temper and wrote to them and said I am not part of the family, George doesn’t like me and I am scared of him, I was still so crushed by what had happened, and things along that line, but my worst hurt was their family, the well-off, talented, gifted family who had everything and talked with Jill and George about me behind my back, I could never be part, just listening to them talking as Jill and George’s son in law sat on the draining board and the boasts about holidays went on, I knew I would be spending many years just hurting and hurting and being an outsider, so I wrote saying no, I was not part of the family, I am sorry for what I wrote, for everything said and done, but I was hurt too, and the church have used all this to condemn me as wicked and convict and ruin me.

Funny how George Lihou tried to lecture me on forgiveness when I did not trust him again, and yet they have been happy to broadcast their unforgiveness of me as part of the defence of the Dean and abuser and wrongdoers in Jersey.

Time was running out, I couldn’t cope with George and Jill and room hunting in Jersey and final assessments at college. Jill kept on about her family even though I had said don’t, she said ‘oh you will see all the family at the glass church in a few weeks as they are all together, I asked her why I would want to see them? And then she was going on about how she had asked her daughter if I could have my post forwarded to the church office, entirely without my say so, her daughter didn’t want to see me, and I didn’t want to see her, so I did not follow that up at all. I told George and Jill that this was goodbye, and that the email was blocked.

College struggled to an end, my tutor seemed to think I was miffed at not getting any special award, as a few awards were given to each class each year, but he was misunderstanding me completely, I had struggled through the year and deserved no reward, I was actually simply completely shattered, I was way beyond exhaustion, I graduated with double distinctions, but though I made arrangements to be there for the awards ceremony, I had to change that to finalise my accommodation in Jersey, it was JM and ******** who I invited to the awards ceremony, and was sad to cancel it.

The wounds from my relationship with George and Jill were raw for a long time in Jersey, they hadn’t had time to heal by the time my abuser got me. Even by the time the abuser had come into my life, Jill and George had reopened the friendship for the second time since I arrived in Jersey, and were continuing things as they were and upsetting me.
They even met the abuser when they were in Jersey with their family and I was already in the abuser's 'care'.

These posts about my relationship with the Lihous are full of shame and sadness, I did not need to be re-punished and branded for my reactions to them by the diocese of Winchester.
This post concludes the 'lets go back' story of my life from leaving my family to moving to Jersey.
I hope that it shows I am not just the user and abuser that the Deanery and Diocese have viciously portrayed me as, but that my life was a non-stop struggle that was weakening me despite my best efforts, but that I strived to work and get an education and tried to build for the future, which sadly my time in Jersey destroyed.