I needed help.
It was the fifth time I’d done this. Just turned up in High-bury, when things got too difficult. Watched in plain sight while my son went about his life with Janice and Jeremy.
Janice seemed to have relaxed in the last few weeks; she wasn’t looking for me anymore. I’d sat at the bus stop opposite the Trevi, watching Charlie trying to eat spaghetti in a table by the window. I’d watched them in the corner shop opposite the Hen and Chickens, I’d watched them twice in the park. I never stayed longer than a couple of minutes: just enough to calm my system; to dull my screaming nerves.
I need help.
I walked away towards Highbury Place, keeping my back to the playground, concentrating on my feet, one in front of the other.
Left foot, right foot. Left, right.
I need help.
Chapter Forty-Six
DIARY OF JANICE ROTHSCHILD
April
Held him in my arms, crying, kissing him, shouting at him. Felt judgemental gaze of other parents. Seriously? Shouting at a tiny child who just wandered off into the trees?
Picked up phone, which I’d dropped on ground when I reached C. Could not stop sobbing. Managed to tell J that C seemed unharmed.
Then J said he’d just found Emily Peel, as he ran across the park to help me.
Everything stopped. I couldn’t believe it.
And yet, I could. I totally could. Fury came, fury like I’ve never known. Despair.
J took Emily to Islington Police Station. He’s been all ‘poor Emily’ since we became Charlie’s legal parents, but that’s over now.
She’ll be punished by the law, he said, in voice that makes politicians shit themselves. Promised he’d stop the press getting anywhere near this.
But how will we get her out of our lives? She lives less than half an hour away. She isn’t going to give up, I feel it in my bones.
Just as I began to believe we were safe.
September 30th, 2002
A two-year restraining order. That’s what she got.
Two years?For a woman who tried to abduct a child? I can’t think straight or do anything. Panic attacks, can’t sleep. Therapist wants me to get trauma treatment, she thinks I have PTSD. I can’t let Charlie out of my sight.
Emily won the magistrate over with her bullshit about ‘just wanting to see him’. He said there was no evidence she tried to abduct C, even tho E admitted that she’s been harassing us.
Waited in the street outside Highbury Mag Court for her to come out. J couldn’t stop me. He tried, but I wasn’t in the mood for compliance. In the end he went home.
Took her forever to come out. She was alone. She’s lost a lot of weight.
I quite literally wanted to push her in front of a bus. You asked me to be a sane and stable mother to Charlie, and then you stalked me? Seriously? You hid in a fucking bush in my local park and tried to steal him away?
How dare you – how fucking dare you?
You have taken so much from us by doing this. And I mean us. You have stripped Charlie of the safe home you asked me to give him. You fucking madwoman. You fucking lunatic.
Instead of all this I walked up to her, calm and composed, and quietly told her that I would make her pay for what she’s done.
And I mean it. No matter how long it takes, I will make her pay.
