Robinson used to take me to his mother’s house probably twice a week. Every week for I would say, three months. It was always the same routine, him laying on me and thrusting, me wanking him off, the kissing, the drowning inside my chest. I switched off. He never tried anal sex. But what he did to me was, as the police told me 51 years later, rape.
I switched off mentally, but emotionally no. The worst thing that he did to me was the kissing, the tongue down my throat. It was and still is pure terror. That and the fact that I was short of my next breath. Yes I was drowning. Of course, looking back, not only was I in a very dangerous situation, I firmly believe today, here and now, the next step for him, the paedophile Jimmy Robinson, would be murder. That is the next step. We all know the cases of child murder. It seems always to go from the act of paedophilia to murder. They want to cover their tracks.
Over the course of the next three months, I would be coming out of school, in Tynings Lane and Robinson would be waiting for me. It got to the point where I would come out of Quicksand Lane. I would make my way back to home avoiding being seen or followed. But Jimmy Robinson would always wait for me. And if I wasn’t there, he would come to my home to collect me. Often when I came out of school he would be at my home, with my mother, having cake and tea. Laying in wait for me to arrive, so he could take me to his “mother’s house.” This went on for months.
Well, where do I begin, I am 11 years old, I live in Oakley Avenue, Aldridge, West Midlands together with my two elder brothers. We are from a working class family. My father worked one week days, followed by one week nights, at a steel foundry. I remember being normal, just like all the other lads in the street. I had many friends. We spent time playing football, going down the railway tracks hiding behind bushes, watching steam trains shunting in the goods yards.
When I was 11 years old, I attended Tynings Lane Secondary Modern School, In Tynings Lane, Aldridge, just ¼ of a mile from home. I didn’t like school, because I wasn’t the brightest of lads. My problem was that I found it very hard to concentrate because there was so much going on around me. My brothers and I were taught to respect, the vicar, the policeman, the doctor. Many a time a policeman in the same avenue would belt us one for climbing over his wall to get our ball. We took it. We didn’t tell our mom or dad because you would get another belting, when dad got home. That was how things were.
On a weekly basis my mother used to send me to Poxon’s butchers, in Station Road, Aldridge, next door to Aurthur Thomas, fruit and veg shop. I went to the shop probably twice a week to get meat or sausages. This I did after school, or Saturday mornings. This went on for a few years. After all, it was safe for kids to be on the streets in those days, or so my parents believed. On one day, just like any other, I walked to the shop only to find a Triumph Bonneville motor bike standing against the front of the shop. I still remember standing looking at this massive machine, trying to imagine what it was like to ride. This was the day that my life changed forever.