Tag Archives: childhood

15. The Interview

The statement went on and on.  For 5 ½ hours, with a ten minute tea break in the middle.  For as many questions that they asked me, I had questions for them.  But they could not answerer them. The interview went over my childhood, my abuse; over and over the same subjects, but from different angles.  I realize now they were probing me to reveal everything that I knew.  From what had happened, to any witnesses, to the time of year, the make of the motor bike, to my brothers, to my dad, to my mom, to Robinson’s mom (no I never met her, did she even exist?), to my marital status, to my step children.

Before the interview I made certain requests to which LE agreed.  First that I get a copy of my video interview after the trial; second that my mother is not to be  interviewed, as she was 86; and thirdly, my brother C is not to be interviewed, as me and C have never got on.  Since our childhood we could not be in the same room.  I did get on with B and they were going to interview him at some stage.

I cannot go into anymore of the interview, it went on for far too long.  All I can say is that, with my hand on my heart, I cried the whole time.  They kept asking me if I wanted to break.  But no, I was there, I was going to finish.  Of this I was certain.  I didn’t ask for this, but I certainly wasn’t going to back away.  After all, when I was 11, I was scared, now I’m 60.  I’m not scared any more, of Robinson or his church.  After the interview I drove back to K’s house, where I’d been staying, and cried and cried and cried.

I hope you never know how I and the other victims must have felt.  But the important thing was, I had done my duty.  I am so sorry it took me 49 years to do it.  Many other victims would have been spared what I went through and am still going through.  Yes I was ashamed that I hadn’t got the courage to shout out when I was 11.  I had no excuse, but fear.

On the next day, a Tuesday, I was leaving Lichfield at about 7 pm to catch Wednesday morning’s 2:30am ferry back to Ireland.  So on the Tuesday morning I decided that I had to go and visit B, to explain why the police wanted to interview him.  I go to his house and stopped around the corner.  It took me almost an hour to pluck up the courage needed to explain my situation.  I rang the door bell and his wife opened the door.  I asked where B was and then went down the garden to see him.  At this time I was crying.  He asked me what was the matter.  I explained that the police were going to call to interview him.  He asked why and that was when I told him.  He just stood there saying nothing.  Silence.  We had a few words as best as I could and I remember saying to him that mom and C are not to get involved.  We had a cup of tea and I left his home.  I told him I was going to see mom before I went home.

I got to the nursing home and was with my mother when C came walking in.  After a few minutes I asked C to come downstairs to the car as I wanted to show him something.  After a couple of tries he agreed and we went downstairs to the car.  As I opened the car door I burst out crying.  He sat next to me and said nothing, that’s the training our parents gave us.  Be quiet and say nothing.  I said to him that I had been abused by Robinson when I was 11and that I had been to the police to give an interview.