CHILDHOOD ABDUCTION

[Dream target date - Summer 1974]

The forest was sometimes a very dangerous place, though as children we failed to see it. It was summer and we were playing at the edge of the wood, close to a main road running from the village, up, past the Jolly Friar out into the countryside. Most of the forestry around the village consisted of dense pine trees, but this particular stretch was lined with silver birch and tightly packed ferns. It was a beautiful setting and the slender branches of the silver birch made great bows and arrows.

A group of us were collecting suitable branches when we heard a commotion on the road. It was a bit unnerving and several members of our party bolted, heading for the security of the less exotic pine trees. Somehow I became separated from the rest of the group and just a little curious about the adult figures I could see through the hedgerow.

The first thought that entered my head was that there'd been an accident out on the road, so I found a convenient break in the trees and stepped out onto the grass verge. I noticed that a number of cars were staggered a few yards further up the hill and in that instant I was jumped from behind. An arm came over my head and a woman appeared from the undergrowth, screaming hysterically. "Get him!" she shouted, as the denim-clad arm pulled hard against my chest.

LESLIE WHITTLE

The woman grabbed my left arm, her grip was stronger than the man behind me. "Get him in the car" she snapped. She had a hard face, short blonde hair and wore a red nylon anorak. My legs were jelly and I could feel waves of heat rippling through my chest and up the back of my neck. The woman vanished for a second, re-emerging in the driving seat of the small red car. My imagination was working overtime, pouring over recent stories about the Leslie Whittle murder "Get him inside" squarked the evil woman

THE SCREAM

The man pushed my head down, but I resisted just enough to let out a high-pitched scream. My captors were unprepared for this and just for a moment I thought that I could break free. My heart was pounding like a drum. With sweat was stinging my eyes, I blinked and caught a glimpse of my friend Steve Clay darting through the trees down towards the village. I wrestled with the faceless captor until the woman got out of the car and grabbed me by the arm again. This time it hurt. My strength was all but gone and I was thrown onto the back seat of the car like a ragdoll.

ABANDONED

When I recovered the car was already in motion. We were heading towards the village where I would be on familiar ground. Then I noticed the other children in the car, two infants. There was a girl next to me on the backseat and a boy in the passenger seat, I guessed they were the woman's children. They were totally silent, the girl looked terrified. I tried to speak but the woman told me to 'shut up'. My mind was racing with unimaginable horrors but I knew that I had to calm down if I was to make an escape.

I found the door handle. We were travelling through the village and I was ready to take my chance as we approached the police station. I thought I'd get away with a few bruises if I jumped and I didn't care. It was better than ending up hanging from a noose in a drain somewhere!

Here was my chance, the village police station, a white detached house on the left. I yanked the door-handle but as I did so the car made a sharp turn, throwing me back into my seat. Before I had time to get up, the car stopped and I was being pulled out by my bruised arm.

The woman was squarking again, her words totally unintelligible. Language and common sense had abandoned me. One minute I was playing in the woods with a group of friends, the next I'm standing, shaken and dishevelled on the driveway of the village police station.

BLACKOUT

My mind went blank. Bursts of conversation faded in and out and gradually I became more aware of my surroundings. I was standing before a desk in a large room "Now calm down" came a man's voice. He had his hand raised and I wasn't sure whether he was addressing me or the mad woman who was still talking in tongues. He mentioned something about destroying a field of hay-bails and it suddenly dawned on me that my abductors were in fact farmers.

A TURN OF EVENTS

Reality-check. Here was a thirteen year old boy pitted against the accusations of a mad woman and a detective after convictions and promotion. There was no kidnapping? But there was an abduction and I knew the farmers were at fault.

"Look, my name's Paul Fillingham" I protested. "I live at 36 Appleton Road and I'd just gone into the woods with some friends. Before that I'd been at home drawing." The detective was writing this down. As he listened to my turn of events, his expression changed.

"Earlier today, I was in Dennis Lester's shop where I bought a sketchbook. You can ask him if you like!" The mad woman became animated again, but I'd had enough. I turned around, found the door and walked out. The detective didn't even bother to call me back.

TALKING OUT LOUD

It was a five minute walk back to Appleton Road. I talked aloud to myself all the way, cursing the mad woman, the abduction and the false accusations. The minute I walked in the door I broke down. My Dad was furious at the way I'd been treated, especially when he saw the bruises on my arm.

That evening he made enquiries in the old village and found the farmers responsible. They were very apologetic but I don't think they fully appreciated the damage that had been done.

ROBBED

The trauma of that event effectively killed-off the place where I loved to play, it killed off friendships too and made me reclusive. For a long time afterwards I hid in my sketchbooks, comic-books and dreams. It took a couple of years for me to find the confidence to venture into the countryside again, by which time childhood was over.

Visit the Scene