MUST READ The Child Holocaust of Britain.

A timeline of my childhood experiences involving The Paedophile Information Exchange.




Acquainting with paedophiles,


1966 December 8, My brother Dominic Thomas Chadbon was born.

1968 September 30, I was born, Nicholas Richard Chadbon.


1969 (summer),

Barnes Montessori was founded in the now demolished Shoreline Building by Celine Argent, (later became Madame Jolivet Gerber) and my mother, The Right Honourable Deborah Elspeth Leathers, (Debbie Chadbon or later Mrs Pitt).


Debbie took her class in the darkened basement, I was not old enough to join in with the class so she forced me to lay down in a cot, silent and unmoving and would beat me if I did otherwise. She was very strict with the children, beating them if they misbehaved.

1972 (summer),

Celine did not like Debbie shouting at and hitting the pupils and persuaded her to teach in the large main room where they held their classes side by side. As a three year old I was a year too young to join a class and although Celine said I could join her class but Debbie would not allow it, I was to sit at a table on my own, with my back to everyone. Debbie continued with her harsh discipline which would disrupt Celine’s class and the two argued about teaching methods. As if to prove a point to Celine about corporal punishment, Debbie took my brother, Dominic, who was in her class, down to the basement and must have given him quite some beating judging by how distraught he was when he emerged, Debbie at his side holding his hand tightly. At the end of the class she took a photograph of him looking forlorn.

I really wanted to join a class and kept looking round to see what they were doing but after being glared at, shouted at and hit, the next punishment was being stripped and beaten in the basement so I kept my back to them and joined in with singing the alphabet in my head.

An exuberant four year old mixed race Boy (V) in Celine’s class crossed Debbie, she took him down to the basement for punishing, however, he did not come back up crying and distressed like I expected, (the door to the basement was on my left) instead he was excited, jubilant, jumping up and down, Debbie in denim dungarees held his hand tightly,

“She played with my willi..” he started to say but Debbie brought her free hand up wagging her finger and placed it to her lips, she bent down to his level and said in a hushed voice,

“SHH! This is between you and me, okay?”

Celine called out incredulously from behind me,

“Debbie!” I turned my head. Celine stood, shocked, the summer sun shone through her hair. She accused Debbie of molesting the boy. Debbie denied it and and silenced the boy in a threatening manner, Celine became irate and yelled at her. Debbie yelled back, Celine shouted out the reasons, [funding/backing] that made it her who calls the shots. The row ended.

Soon after, Boy (V)’s parents arrived at the steps of the nursery, with boy (V) in a baby buggy. They were livid, his mother shouting at Debbie and the angry father ascending the concrete stairs. Debbie locked the door. She stopped working there.



Debbie would sexually abuse both Dominic and myself at the family home. With me it was either when I was half asleep or in the bath. Dominic would always become distressed and cry when I witnessed him being sexually abused.

The last bath I had together with Dominic. Debbie was simultaneously molesting the both of us and Dominic burst into tears and pleaded with her for us to take our baths separately which we did from then on. At a later date Dominic came up to me on the landing and said to me that I was too young to get a big willy.



My grandmother, Elspeth Graeme Leathers, (Viscountess Leathers or Mima as her grandchildren called her), was not normally violent, she only hit me once. One morning the smell of kedjeree enticed my brother and I into the dining room, we burst in but there was no place set for us and Elspeth was furious, she beat both my brother and myself. Soon after, I made the same mistake again, her persona changed from carefree to fierce, she shouted at me in Bihari, (a dialect of, or in another Indian language) to come to her, (which somehow I understood, probably by her body language) but knowing what would happen I did not go to her and ran out of the room.

1973 December,

For Christmas Dominic got a book of transfers he had completed two years before, (Elspeth was a chronic alcoholic) and Elspeth said she would give him another present which he had to go upstairs to her bedroom for. When he came down he was empty handed. I asked him where the present was and he said it was sex. My uncle, The Right Honourable Christopher Greame Leathers, (Christie) later yelled his disapproval up the stairs, (that lead to my grandparents dressing room and bedroom) directing his ire at Elspeth, who replied in a waving voice,

“It was alright in India.”

“You’re not in fucking India!” Christie shouted back.



Debbie had a children’s clothes shop called ‘Child’s Play’ which was in Barnes, on the corner of White Hart Lane and Limes Field Road.

In the middle of the shop floor were clothes rails with princesses/fairy costumes, ballet dresses and one kings outfit. Debbie did a good trade with these clothes. (Except for the kings outfit which stayed on the rack)

One day Elspeth turned up with Leon Brittan who had a dark haired chubby Boy (P) of around eight years old with him. Boy (P) was told to put on a pink tutu which he did and ran around the shop in a hyperactive way. Leon Brittan cut a hard deal with Debbie over the bulk buying of these little girl’s outfits.


1973 (summer),

During the summer Debbie organised a photo shoot for a catalogue, her friend Judy, (now deceased) came along with her daughter, (Girl B) as did Dominic and myself.

The site was in east London, a derelict goods yard. We parked the car and went through the a door set into large blue solid wooden gates. The photo shoot started on an overgrown loading bay/railway platform, two other boys were there; a mixed race Boy (T), aged around eight and Boy (Z), aged about ten. Boy (Z) came over to me and said,

“I’m going to rip your shirt off.” He ripped at my shirt and I lost a button. I retreated and stood at a distance. The children were then photographed against a high wall. Then we went into a small yard which was enclosed on three sides, against a wall was a 1940’s motorbike, opposite was a single story building that had a heavy curtain/rug hanging across the doorway. A dark haired Girl (A), aged around four was there. After changing into other clothes, Dominic and Boy (Z) were told to sit on the bike, the photographer was a man with dark hair and a beard and another man was barking out orders, this man was Sydney Cooke. Boy (Z) sat with his hands on the handle bars and Dominic sat behind. Cooke then told him to sit closer to Boy (Z) and said,

“Make it look like you are going really fast,” The two boys leaned forward, “Stick your arse’s out!” Boy (Z) stood up and stuck his backside into Dominic’s face, Cooke and the photographer laughed loudly. “Okay, lets do some modelling without clothes,” Cooke ordered, “We won’t charge you anything then. No toddlers.” He and the photographer cackled. They all went inside except for the Girl (A) and myself.

“Stay here and don’t come in.” Debbie said to me as she went in.

I stood there for a couple of minutes, then took a look inside to see what they were up to. On the left there was a low stage, Cooke was standing on the near side, Girl (B) was running around naked/half naked on the stage along with a naked Boy (Z) and sitting on the far side of the stage was an unattractive woman with frizzy fair/blonde hair and she was undressing/molesting Boy (T). Opposite the stage was the photographer and Judy. At the far end of the room was a changing booth, the curtain was drawn and Dominic stood shaking his head and tearful as Debbie, kneeling was caressing his groin with a fixed grimace on her face. Dominic saw me and became more distressed, he started to cry,

“Nicholas is watching!” Debbie looked over at me and glared,

“Get out!” She shouted. Cooke said,

“He’s disobeyed you, punish him, spank him!” The photographer and Boy (Z) both made sounds of agreement. Cooke continued, “If you won’t, I will. He’s disobeyed a direct order!” He made his way over to me.

“No hitting the kids!” Protested the woman sitting on the stage, “It distresses them!”

“I love it!” Cooke said, advancing, his eyes bulging and fixed on me. I ran into an open area, I had two options; go for the door in the gate but I did not know whether it was locked or not or run into the open goods yard where I was bound to get caught, I stood there waiting for Cooke to emerge but he didn’t. I went back into the yard to check out the bike. Girl (A) then walked over to the curtain and went inside, I heard several adults all in-taking their breath to shout my mother raged,

“I…!!!” Realising it was not me the voices all turned falsetto and in unison chimed,

“ESS-TERR!” in a ‘ahh, how sweet’ way.

I waited, but not for long, Judy and Debbie came storming out with Dominic and Girl (B) following behind, Judy remonstrated with Debbie,

“Paedophiles Debbie, paedophiles!” she said loudly with distaste. Debbie started to argue and Judy spelled it out, “PEE-DO-PHILES!!” Debbie looked over to me, I was backing off towards the gates,

“Okay.” Debbie said and we left. The door in the gate was unlocked. On the way to the car Judy was astonished how easily the kids (Particularly her daughter) had been duped into such behaviour. She asked Debbie who’s contact these people were. Debbie said it was Elspeth’s contact. Judy asked where the kids came from, Debbie said they were kids from Lambeth care homes.

A couple of weeks later at 83 Elm Bank Gardens the catalogue was on the dining table and there was someone discussing it with Debbie, (An uncle or a policeman) they said it was not evidence as there was no text on it except for the name of the shop. Debbie had tried to pay by cheque, (she had no cash and was not charged) so there was no cheque or receipt with the photographers details on it.


I was standing amongst the clothes rails in the middle of the shop, I was annoyed at not being allowed to play with the sword and kings outfit, (although I was encouraged to put on girl’s costumes.) My aunt, The Right Honourable Anne Catherine Leathers, (later Mrs Centner)was standing next to me at the end of the rail and I whispered to her,

“Mummy plays with Dominic’s willy.” Anne’s jaw dropped, she alerted Debbie who was standing three meters away by the till and then said to me to say what I had just said again, louder, which I did, Debbie glared at me and said,

“It’s just child’s play.” Anne wasn’t having it and an argument ensued which ended up with Anne lying on the floor, rolling from side to side with her hands quivering on her chest as if she was having an epileptic fit, she was crying and wailing,

“My sister’s a paedophile! My sister’s a paedophile!”

“OH, GET UP!” Debbie shouted.



I walked into Debbie’s bedroom and Dominic was dancing on the bed whilst she sexually abused him.

I was what is known as a ‘late developer’, (a boy who does not get an erection until a later age) my abuse was mostly physical. The beatings were severe, when I was two years old I had to have stitches in my face after one such beating. Tuesday’s, (and sometimes Monday’s) were good because at primary school we would go swimming on Wednesday’s and the state of my backside would cause teachers to wince and raise concerns therefore Debbie would refrain from beating us.

Other punishments were; being locked in the under stairs cupboard, (where I had to stand as she would keep checking), put in a Kashmir table, (my gibbet), eating off the floor, (on my hands and knees where the dog ate).

Elspeth and Debbie were both proud to be paedophiles and would state:

“Francophiles are people who love France and paedophiles are people who love children.”

Debbie said the age of consent should be thirteen and considered the sexual abuse of younger children as ‘child’s play’.


1974 (early or middle),

Debbie took Dominic and I to get our passport photographs taken at a studio in White Hart Lane. After we had our photo’s taken the photographer, (a man) photographed a woman beating a Boy (I) of about four years old and then photographed Debbie doing the same with Boy (I), but she stopped and then declined when asked to beat Dominic and/or myself.



On holiday in Spetses. Elspeth, Debbie, Dominic and I stayed at a hotel by the harbour. In the morning lying in bed after being woken, {by molestation} I watched Debbie standing over Dominic’s bed watching Elspeth who sat on the bed molesting Dominic. The maid walked in and screamed like she had seen the devil, she used her hand to make the sign of the cross in front of her and ran out of the room. The hotel management arrived and a huge row ensued and we had to leave.



Debbie had a copy of ‘understanding paedophilia’, the front cover featured a child actor and there were more photographs of him inside, one of which he was holding a sword, (rapier) standing next to a high stool. She would hide the journal and I would find it straight away. She claimed she was psychic. This ability also manifested in the game of Cluedo; Debbie would hold a card and I would guess what it was and I would be right, (most of the time) but she started to try and trick me which confused me. She expressed her revelations to one of my uncles who said,

“Maybe he’s the one who’s psychic.” This did not please Debbie who replied,

“But he’s a child.” When, at the suggestion of my uncle I held the card and Debbie tried to guess, she could not get it right.

She tried to do it with playing cards which was a lot harder and would end up shouting and threatening to hit me. From then on I shied away from playing this game.


Debbie announced that Elspeth was to work for the charity ‘The Princedale Trust’ which involved taking children from deprived backgrounds on day trips to the funfair, the zoo and outdoor activities such as dirt bike racing. When the trust changed names, (Albany trust, Albany trust limited) it was to the annoyance of Debbie as she was in charge of [expenses], she had a chest of drawers with the bottom drawer full of cheque book stubs). Elspeth would bring these children, (boys) to Elm Bank Gardens whilst on their day trips.


I was hiding under Debbie’s bed and her and Dominic came in, got in bed and started moving up and down, the mattress form of Debbie’s body got closer and closer to me, I started to poke her in the back on every down motion, she called out my name several times and when Dominic realised what was going on he leaped of in tears, they were angry and I ran out the room.



Once a large man was in the shop with a Boy (H) of around nine years old and the man flew into a rage and used the flat edge of the wooden sword (which came with the kings outfit) to give Boy (H) a harsh beating. Boy (H) collapsed into a rail of clothes and onto the floor screaming and sobbing with the man falling on top of him with his arms around him. The man then apologised and started to kiss him and run his hands all over him. Debbie then sent me into the cellar.



Elspeth had separated from my grandfather and was on her own at Hillsgreen until it was sold, (On the market 10th August 1977.) In between selling Hillsgreen and buying Vergers, (Also in Kirdford) she was homeless. She was in Vergers by 1978.

I visited her once at a ground floor flat in Gloucester Place, it was a sombre occasion. Debbie took me there, Elspeth’s brown Citroen GSA was parked outside. We entered the building at ground level, the flat was the first door on the right side of the hallway. Elspeth was sitting in a room which smelled of cigars/pipe tobacco, there were net curtains that made the room dingy although the sunlight shone in from the street, (Gloucester Place) She wore her large sunglasses and had her brown/grey tweed ‘safari type’ suit on. A sheepish old man disappeared through a doorway at the back of the room, [Anthony Blunt?] Elspeth hardly said a word or moved a muscle. Debbie deduced she was hung over and sensed there had been a party the night before. We didn’t stay long.



I came out of the house and saw that Elspeth had turned up. With her were two boys, one Boy (U) was around nine years old and stood by her side holding her hand. The other Boy (A) was about twelve years old and was five meters away up the street standing in the middle of the road, he was tall and had dark short hair with a swept fringe, a square jawed face, broad shoulders and wore smart, fashionable clothes. On the pavement outside the front gate, slightly to the right and next to Elspeth stood Debbie and her partner, (the late Graham Foster?) They faced the road where, in the middle of, Elspeth’s car (brown Citroen GSA) stood stationary and pointing up the street (away from the river) towards the boy. On the passenger (far) side of the car was a tall dark haired and bearded man, this was Sydney Cooke. The garden gate was closed and although I had not yet greeted Elspeth I was told by Debbie to stay in the garden, which I did along with Dominic. Cooke was really angry and was shouting up the street at the boy,

“Get in the car Danny!” he bellowed, “Get in the fucking car!” Boy (A) would not do so and turned and walked further up the road towards the church. He then came back and weaved around some parked cars as the Cooke tried to catch him and he then went further up the road again, to about twenty meters away. I thought why doesn’t he nip through the churchyard but he probably did not know that there was an alley there. Boy (A) turned and faced us, he looked confused and scared but defiant. Cooke laughed callously and shouted,

“You’ve got nowhere to go have you Danny? Get in the car!” Boy (A) came back to within a few meters but still would not get in the car, and continued to give Cooke the run around. Cooke was livid, “GET IN THE FUCKING CAR!” Boy (A) would not. Then Cooke, cursing and swearing got into the drivers seat of the car, stuck it in first gear and launched it towards Boy (A). Boy (A) looked straight at me wide eyed, I looked away and heard a soft crunch. Immediately the man shouted, “DANNY!” in a mock concerned voice and got out of the car saying in a false tone, “It was an accident!” Debbie’s partner objected saying he did it deliberately but the man kept saying it was an accident which it was obviously not. I could not see Boy (A) on the road as he was obscured by the garden fence. They all crowded around him and Debbie told Dominic and I to go into the back garden which we did. An ambulance was called.

A day or so passed and Debbie said that Boy (A) asked if Dominic and I would visit him in hospital but she convinced us that we did not know him and he was more of a stranger than a friend so we did not visit.

A few days later Debbie showed me a local newspaper which had a small paragraph stating that Boy (A) had died in hospital, (Charing Cross?) his name was Daniel, his surname looked Irish. Debbie’s partner became angry and said Boy (A) wanted to see Dominic and I so we could be witnesses, and how sad that Boy (A) chose children to try and get witnesses over adults. A row ensued between Debbie and her partner. Debbie wanted him to sign a statement saying it was Elspeth who had been the driver which he would not do and he kept saying,

“That was no accident!” and he threw his hands in the air and shouted, “It was murder!” and stormed out.

At some point I went with Debbie to a police vehicle depot in Barnes (St Annes Road) where she remonstrated with a policeman who sat at a table with log book in a small booth which was immediately inside the large entrance to the left. He would not return the car saying,

“It’s evidence”.

Elspeth bought a new car, (Citroën CX prestige) it was light blue and matched her ‘safari’ style tweed suit which had ‘drainpipe’ trousers, she wore black leather heeled boots with this outfit. Her previous ‘safari’ style suit was grey/brown and also tweed. She often wore a tweed grey/brown skirt.

During the time Elspeth had no fixed address she had a PIE, (Paedophile information exchange) membership package sent to Elm Bank Gardens, I was there when Debbie picked it off the hall floor, it was addressed to Elspeth and used her full title. There was a PIE sticker in the package that was put in the front window alongside a Liberal party sticker.


Elspeth and Debbie were in the kitchen. I was in the sitting room in my gibbet playing a game with Dominic with ‘pick a sticks’, (small pointed sticks with coloured ends). He would poke the sticks through little arched windows of the intricately carved hardwood sides of the table which had five sides and an octagonal tin clad top and try to prick me, I would try and grab the stick off him and prick him back. The game would end when I had all the sticks in a pile underneath me, (which would cause additional discomfort) I had very little room for manoeuvring, I could only swivel 360° on my hands and knees or sit in one position. Halfway through playing this game Boy (Q) who had arrived with Elspeth entered the room and immediately joined in. He was eleven or twelve years old, had straight mousey hair and quite a large nose and was poking the sticks through a lot harder than Dominic was. I was doing the best I could in defending myself and then Boy (Q) took a stick in each hand, Dominic followed suit and I became helpless, Boy (Q) was going for my eyes, moving around the table jabbing the sticks in hard, I cried out in pain but they continued, laughing all the while. I was also being impaled by the sticks beneath me, I screamed and lurched up against the heavy top and to the side to try and escape bringing the whole table crashing down on me. I was face down and Boy (Q) jumped on top of me and started to writhe and grind his body into me, tearing at my clothes whilst kissing the back of my neck and cheeks. Elspeth and Debbie came in the room,

“Richard!” Elspeth shouted, “Get off him!” Boy (Q) continued and they had to pull him off me.



Debbie had a flat topped Wendy house/playhouse built so she could put the till on it and display items. Below the till she had a round window cut into it at crotch level. Once I went to enter the playhouse, I stepped through the cut-out door and Dominic who was inside halted me saying he did not want me to come in, there was a lot of excitement, I persisted. There was another Boy (J) inside, Debbie was standing at the till and her jeans were undone, child sex abuse was taking place through window opening. I was told to go away again, which I did.


I arrived at the shop from school and there was police crime scene tape wrapped around the playhouse. I looked at it and Debbie said to an uncle who was there,

“This is silly.” And went to take the tape down but was advised that the police would not like it and would take it very seriously if she was to do so. My uncle then started to shout at Debbie saying how she deliberately had the window cut in that position so she could abuse children and with added abhorrence exclaimed this abuse would be committed, (on Child/Boy K) as she worked at the till.

Some time after my uncle’s made Debbie say to me,

“I’m not allowed to work with children any more.” She started to walk off and my uncle’s said loudly,

“And the rest!” My mother bowed her head and without looking at me mumbled,

“I’m a paedophile.”

{uncle’s, “…….but it doesn’t say anything about having/bringing up children…”}


1978 April/May,

Jonathan King ran as a candidate to be the local MP and was canvassing down our street, posting his leaflets, (“JK all the way” on a ‘complimentary’ sized slip of paper, all printed in black and white.) He knocked on our door but neither Dominic or I answered, we were upstairs looking out of the window as he walked towards the river. Toby, a twelve year old boy who lived opposite was hanging out of his first floor window shouting at King, Dominic and I opened a window each and listened in,

“Wanker!” Toby shouted. King had stopped at the yard entrance and was facing Toby,

“Yeah, I’m a wanker!” King shouted back, “This is how I do it!” He made a hand gesture simulating masturbation. “How do you do it?” Toby responded with more insults and King became angry, held his arms out provocatively and yelled, “You think you’re hard don’t you? Come on then!”

“Arsehole!” Dominic said. King turned to face him,

“Yeah, I got an arsehole right here!” he pointed to his rear, “Where’s yours?”

“Twit!” I shouted. Toby, Dominic and myself all laughed at King whose mood softened, he looked at me, smiled and said,

“Twit? Is that the best you can do? Is you’re mother in?” Dominic and I were silent. “She’s not is she? you want me to spank you, don’t you?” King started walking back towards our house, “Open the door.” He commanded. I definitely was not going to open the door but I was fearful that Dominic would. “Open the door!” King said more forcefully. Toby started screaming,

“Pervert! Help! Police!” Someone opened their front door further down the street, King turned on his heel and walked off rapidly.


One afternoon I was standing in the sitting room in the bay of the window and Debbie was in the room along with Mima. Debbie was asking my Elspeth about how she wanted me to mix with the boys she was taking on day trips and said,

“Have you got someone with you now?” Elspeth did not reply. Debbie and I looked out of the window to Mima’s car which was parked fifteen meters away on the other side of the road facing away from us. “Why have you parked over there when there is a parking space right outside the house?” Debbie said crossly. I focussed on the back window of the car and a Boy (N) turned his body and head and looked directly at me. He had brown straight hair cut in a pudding bowl style, a round face with large round brown eyes and a slightly cleft lip, he was about ten years old.

“Bring him in.” Debbie said. Elspeth remained silent. Debbie continued, raising her voice, “Bring him in, what’s his name?”

“Edward.” Elspeth replied.

“No it’s not, you’re lying, I know when you’re lying Ma!” Debbie said confrontationally. I was still eye to eye with Boy (N) and in a strange empathic moment I saw naked boys being beaten by naked adults and then the boys being sexually abused, one of the adults was Elspeth. Boy (N)’s eyes were like saucers, ‘HELP ME!’ I turned away in embarrassment and shock. Elspeth was saying to my mother,

“….he’ll be running wild all over the furniture, climbing the shelves….putting things in his pockets!” Boy (N) stayed in the car.


1978 December,

Debbie, Dominic and myself went for a holiday in South Africa. We hired a camper van and left aunt Anne and uncle Arthur’s place in Johannesburg and headed for Durban. Along the way, one of the stops we made was at a campsite on the Umgeni river. It was late afternoon. We parked the van and went in to the grassy area and pitched our tents close to the river bank. Twenty meters away, by a couple of picnic benches and under a large tree were a group of Afrikaners, the only other camper was a man with short dark curly hair and a beard in his thirties who had his tent close to ours. The man, (Jim) was friendly and was soon chatting with Debbie, he made a bar-b-q and we ate, Dominic and I were given red wine. Night fell and giddy with the wine I crashed into my bed and Dominic was next to me in the tent.

In the middle of the night I awoke and found that Dominic was not in the tent next to me. There were sounds coming from Debbie’s tent, giggling, laughing, pleasurable moaning and the sound of backsides being slapped. I got up and went out to have a look. I half unzipped Debbie’s tent, (from the top down) and peered in, child sex abuse was taking place. Jim, who was laying on top of her turned his head and said,

“Mmmm, more the merrier!” and Debbie told me to go back to my tent which I did. The curious noises continued and I fell asleep.

In the morning I was feeling the after effects of the alcohol. The four of us were milling around, packing and preparing breakfast when a blonde man came over from the direction of the other campers.

“I am in charge here,” he said, “I’ve had a serious complaint.” He went on to say who he was, some kind of police chief/man of importance. “Are you Jewish?” He said to Jim.

“What if I am?” Jim retorted, “I’ve served my time in the army and I have my identity papers.” He rummaged in his belongings and started to produce some documents but the blonde man stayed him with his hand and said,

“Thought so. Some of us..” he indicated his head left, towards the campers who were sitting on the picnic benches “..think you should be out there with the rest of them.” He nodded his head right, towards the entrance gate of the campsite. He continued with an air of authority announcing he was going to put us all on trial and he made it clear that it would be held in English for our benefit only and it angered him that he would have to do so.

I was told to continue tidying and packing our stuff. Debbie, Jim and Dominic went with the man to where the eight or so other campers were. Jim sat still on one picnic bench with the male campers standing a few meters away surrounding him. Debbie was sat fidgety on another bench and the women campers sat with her, not letting her move. The blonde man stood under the tree and was speaking whilst Dominic stood near by. Then the women had Debbie on the table, pinning her down on her back whilst one of them carried out some sort of gynaecological test. All the men had turned their backs. Debbie looked over to me, eyes glaring angrily but also fearful.

After a little while, the blonde man walked back over with my brother and a blonde woman in her twenties. Debbie remained on the bench, sitting with the women who held on to her. The man spoke about what he had decided to do and turned to my brother and said angrily,

“You lied to me.” Dominic backed off. The man then said to me, “Curiosity killed the cat.” He introduced the woman and said she is going to look after us and told us to get in the river and sober up, he laughed without humour and went back to the picnic benches. The woman told us to swim to the other side of the river. Dominic and I got in the river and swam across to the far bank, the woman became angry as we reached the other side, telling us to get back in the river, but we picked our way through the mud and climbed the bank and turned around to see the woman irate, shouting at us to get back in the river, she kept glancing over her shoulder at the proceedings which were taking place under the tree. All of a sudden there was a massive distressed shout,

“NOOOO!!!!” It was Jim, he was standing in a defensive position by the picnic bench, the men were closing in on him and the women were banging pots and pans creating a large clamour. There was a man scuttling around a branch of the tree with a rope. The men jumped on Jim. The woman who was with us turned back to us and with fury told us to get back in the river and swim over to her. I thought it was some sort of endurance test, I couldn’t understand her anger but Dominic and I got back in the river and started swimming back. Half way across the woman ordered us to stop swimming and tread water which we did, she became frustrated and told us to put our hands in the air which we did. There was still the sound of pots and pans being banged. The woman kept looking over her shoulder towards her fellow campers. Dominic and I faced each other in the river, treading water with our hands in the air, we were both strong swimmers but I was starting to tire and wanted to get out but the woman shouted at us to keep going and told us to tread water faster and faster, as hard as we could. We did so and my head was getting lower and lower, I was spluttering from swallowing water and all of a sudden Dominic grabbed me and held me under the chin and took me back to the bank using a rescue technique.

“Yes,” the woman said, “Come back here.” We climbed back up the bank and the woman told me once more to come to her. She was a pretty woman and I was happy to oblige, I thought she was going to dry me down, even give me a cuddle. We faced each other on the grassy river bank, Dominic stood behind me. She started to stroke my neck, I thought this was a strange way to dry someone, there was no towel. I stood looking into her eyes, a fixed grimace on her face. She continued caressing my neck and then she placed her hands around my neck and started to squeeze, gently at first but with increasing pressure. I thought this was still part of the endurance test and it started to hurt but I remained still and silent. It came to a point where it really hurt and I thought ‘gosh, this is harder than Dominic strangles me’, but the woman continued to apply pressure on my throat, I couldn’t breathe, I looked into her eyes wondering if I had ‘passed’ the toughness test but her grimace remained and she didn’t stop, I had run out of air and felt faint, I started to make involuntary choking noises and my eyes were almost popping out. And then, suddenly, she broke her grip and wailed, she turned and ran back to her fellow campers squealing and sobbing, she was crying out something in Afrikaans.

Dominic and I went back to our tents to finish packing, we had the cool box packed and were about to dismantle the tents when the blonde man and Debbie came back over,

“What’s that?” I said pointing to a shape hanging from the tree. [It was Jim, they had hung him low, hog tied with a bag over his head]

“A sack of potatoes,” Debbie said quickly, “Don’t look, come on we’re going.” The blonde man thought this was funny and repeated,

“A sack of potatoes,” he then started to reminisce about witnessing his first hangings when he was a child, how they would hang them high with no bag over their heads. And he admitted it was not a good look for any tourist turning up. He went on to say that he would of had no problems hanging Debbie and Dominic but none of them wanted to put the rope around my neck, I was too young to hang and too old to take in as one of their own (I would probably remember) and none of them wanted me anyway and also, although it would give him great pleasure to hang a member of the British aristocracy (he had hanged all sorts), he thought Debbie might be missed, unlike Jim.

An ambulance turned up, the blonde man confidently spoke to the paramedics who, looking scared took Jim away very swiftly.

“We’re going.” Debbie said to Dominic and myself.

“What about the tents?” Dominic asked.

“Leave them.” Debbie said and started walking to the car park, Dominic picked up the cool box and we followed.

“We’ll burn them for you.” The blonde man called out after us.

We drove off and we were all silent for a long time until Debbie started to sob gently as she drove and when we got to Durban and traffic she drove into the back of someone’s car, the driver, a man, came flying out,

“That’s just like a woman to cry when she’s done something wrong!” he shouted.

“I was already crying.” Debbie confessed. Dominic and I sat in the back picking glass out of our legs as some bottles of pop had exploded in the cool box on impact. Another man appeared and said he was a witness to the accident. The first man calmed down and asked why she was crying, Debbie explianed that her boyfriend had just died.

“How did he die?” Asked the driver sympathetically.

“He drowned.” Debbie replied still tearful. One of the men invited my mother to a bbq and an argument broke out between the two men who faced each other off and we left.



Debbie persisted in wanting me to mix with the care home boys, and sought to find one of my own age.

I came home after school one afternoon and walked through to the kitchen where Debbie and Elspeth sat. I was told to make friends with a boy who was in the sitting room and I went in and was introduced to Boy (S). He was about ten years old and had a friendly manner.

“This is Carl, Carl this is Nicholas.” We were left alone.

“My friends call me Nick,” I said, then added, “Is it Carl with a C or a K?”

“C.” Boy (S) replied. We sat down in separate armchairs and each of us had a magnetic puzzle to do. After no more than two minutes Boy (S) said,

“This is boring, lets go up the chimney.” He walked over to the fire place and disappeared up the chimney. I was astonished and went over and peered up and saw his face, “Come on it’s easy, there’s space for two.” he said and explained how to climb up. I climbed up and sat in an alcove opposite him in his alcove. He started to talk about ‘Uncle Leon’ and the gifts he got and he spoke about sex. I did not know what sex was which surprised him and he said, “You must know what sex is, I do it all the time, with my family, with ‘Uncle Leon’, I’ve just been having sex in the kitchen with your mum and your gran.”

“Is it swearing?” I asked.

“No.” He laughed, look I’ll show you, he took his penis out and tried to arouse himself but couldn’t and suddenly became abashed and his perky attitude changed and he said he hated ‘Uncle Leon’ and spoke of how sex really hurt him and how ‘Uncle Leon’ would beat him up.

We were called down by Debbie and the first thing I said was,

“What’s sex?” Debbie recoiled and looked at Elspeth who smiled and said,

“You don’t want him hiding up the chimney Deborah, it’s top of the list for the social services to take children into care, they get stuck and the fire brigade have to get them out. Out of the frying pan and into the fire!” She continued smiling and shaking her head, “You don’t want him going up the chimney Deborah, at the care homes they light fires to flush them out!”

“No they don’t Ma!” Debbie said.

“They do in Jersey. They burn them alive!” (Child/Boy C)

“NO!” Debbie exclaimed.

“YES they do Deborah! Out of the frying pan and into the fire!”

I would use this excellent hiding place to avoid Debbie’s beatings. I would be up there for hours waiting for her to calm down. I was up there once when she was particularly cross, she could not get me down even by cooking my favourite meal fishcakes and baked beans and placing the plate on the grate causing me to have hunger pangs, I would not budge. Then, in silence her hands appeared below me and she started to prepare a fire, scrunching up the paper, setting the kindling and placing the coal. She produced a large box of matches and and slowly took out a match and held it to the box at an angle, ready to strike. I wailed and came clattering down the chimney into her arms.


Elspeth and Debbie would host parties* (at the house in Elm Bank Gardens), when Dominic and I were visiting my ‘good’ grandmother. Once, when I returned I discovered a wet patch in my bed and there was a message written on the wall: “Hello Nick please help me” (Boy W).

*’Wild’ parties according to Martin John Hanness b.July 1952.


I walked into the dining room, Debbie was sitting on a carver dining chair, with Dominic on top moving up and down, he saw me and leaped off and collapsed in a crying heap,

“He saw me! He saw me!”

“No he didn’t!” Debbie said tersely.

“He did, he saw me! Nicholas saw me!” Dominic wailed, sobbing heavily. Debbie turned to me,

“What did you see Nicholas!” She said crossly.

“Dominic bouncing on your lap.” I said in a level voice, (I actually thought very odd for someone his age.)

“There! Now get up.” Debbie chided, but Dominic remained hysterical, “OH, GET UP!” She shouted.

Dominic told me sex was a thing I did not know about and that when he was thirteen he was going

to have sex with Debbie.



Dominic and I were at the funfair. We were walking along the main row of attractions which ran parallel with Lower Richmond Road and came within a few meters of the shooting stall where Boy (R) stood firing an air rifle at the plastic ducks which floated along at the back of the stall. Standing next to him was Elspeth.

“Mima!” Dominic called out. Elspeth ignored us and walked off holding Boy (R)’s hand. We were confused. “Mima!” Dominic called after her, she did not turn around and disappeared into the middle of the fair. We did not follow and had a go at shooting the duck’s out of the water. We then continued to other rides and attractions and after a while ended up in the South West corner of the fair where caravans and generators formed a barrier from the road, (Queens Ride). There was a ‘test your strength’ attraction with a long horizontal piece and an upright piece, a group of boys were crowded around waiting for their turn to wield the long handled mallet, the man in charge was Sydney Cooke. Elspeth and Boy (R) were also there, they were all laughing and excited. Dominic and I started to walk towards Elspeth and called loudly,

“Mima!” She ignored us, we started to run up to her,

“Mima!” I shouted, she turned,

“Clear off, you little shits!” We stopped dead in our tracks, stunned, the boys all laughed, Cooke was beaming. We left the fair.

That night two Boys (X and O) were sexually assaulted in the same part of the common. The police were investigating. It was in the local papers.

A few years later, (1985) I was at the site after it had shut for the night with some school mates, it was local knowledge that one of the fairground workers was a paedophile and lived in one of the caravans in the South West corner. We circled that corner from the road, shouting abuse, taunting the occupants, tipped a gas bottle over and ran off.



One afternoon I was alone at my home in Barnes and Elspeth turned up and took me in her car the very short distance to Avondale Road, we entered from the river end and about halfway up the road we pulled up to the left, directly outside the front gate of a house, (flat) which Elspeth entered. I could see up the garden path, through the hall and into what looked like the kitchen where there were two naked men and a naked woman, one of the men was sitting on a chair beating a Boy (Z) everyone was laughing including Boy (Z) who was holding his head up and looking directly at me. I was in the back seat of the car and I sunk beneath the window, out of sight. Elspeth came out and asked me if I wanted to come in, I said,

“No.” She asked me if I would like a drink, I said, “No thank you.” She went back in and came out with a mug of orange cordial which I took and held under my nose, it smelled of cheap brandy/whiskey, I said, “It’s been laced.” And handed her the mug, Elspeth thought this was hilarious and went back in and jokingly rebuked the people in the house. She made another attempt to get me to go into the house but I was lying on the back seat scared and avoiding eye contact. We left.



Debbie was suspicious at Elspeth parking away from the house. One afternoon Elspeth arrived and there was no sign of her car. Debbie asked her where her car was and Elspeth replied that she had parked on White Hart Lane by the news agents because she had bought some cigarettes and then walked. Debbie was not convinced and when Elspeth left she followed her. On her return she was discussing with my Richard that she had followed her to Avondale Road, where her car was and she saw a Boy (AA) coming out of a house and getting into the car. Debbie said how she felt like she was spying on her mother and Richard said that’s exactly what she was doing, she was a spy.



Debbie took me to a dirt bike track somewhere in the Home Counties, it was on a hill and we walked from the car through some pine trees to the track on the slope below. On the edge of the woods were Elspeth, Sydney Cooke and Lesley Bailey. All the kids bikes were taken and I got on an adults bike, it was my first time on a bike and I took it really slow, first gear all the way. All the other kids were tearing around on their bikes, constantly lapping me. Boy (Z) was on a bike, he was much too big for it, every time he lapped me he tried to knock me off and making nasty comments such as,

“I’m going to hurt you.” And, “I’m going to fuck you.” Cooke and Bailey were taunting me from the tree line. I had enough and got off and went and stood by my mother wanting to go. Cooke and Bailey continued to taunt me,

“We’ll toughen him up!” They were drunk, holding cans of beer, Elspeth was also drunk, they were all laughing raucously, Cooke continued, “Yeah, we’ll toughen him up, give him a good bumming!” Bailey doubled up laughing, spewing beer out of his mouth. Debbie was dismayed at their behaviour including Elspeth’s, asking her if they really meant it, Elspeth just laughed. Debbie rebuked her angrily for keeping such company and we left.



Elspeth and Debbie were arguing over whose car they should take and they decided on taking Debbie ‘s Red Renault 5 (reg:NLX79OP). We set off from the house in Barnes and drove to a London children’s care home. There was a high wooden feather edge board fence around the property and we went through the back gate which was set into the fence and made of the same wooden boards. In the back garden, at the back of the garden, sitting on an ‘adventure playground’ type tyre rope swing was a Boy (L) of around 10 years old, he was mixed race, had ‘afro’ hair of around 6 inches and was quite chubby. He looked at us, we looked at him but nothing was said. We walked towards the back of the large house, passing Boy (L) on the right and following the fence line on our left.

We entered the (Victorian era) house and walked into the dining room, passing along, on our right a long wooden dining table with many wooden chairs through a large opening into the sitting room, I could see through the front windows and the front garden with a well kept lawn. We walked passed a sofa on our right, into the middle of the room and turned around to face the way we had come in and the sofa. Standing behind the sofa were 3 men and a woman, another man stood behind an arm chair to the left. There was an initial silence and I did not like the atmosphere or the men and woman looking at me. Elspeth spoke of “picking up” the boy. But the man standing furthest to the right asked “Who for?” he had dark hair, a round face and had a ‘wide boy’ stance, he was very confident. Elspeth replied in an almost whisper and the man said,

“You mean Leon Brittan, just say it, we are all paedophiles here.” He looked down the line for confirmation and the other men and the woman all nodded or voiced their agreement.

“Yes,” Elspeth said “Leon sent us.”

“No he didn’t!” the man retorted, “He always calls me when he wants to take a boy. Who are you? You are paedophiles right?”

“Yes, we are paedophiles.” Elspeth said and turned to Debbie as did everyone else,

“Yes.” Debbie said.

“Who are you?” Elspeth asked. In turn from left to right they all gave their names, the man on the right stuck his chest out and said,

“Detective chief superintendent John Smith.” [Sir John Alfred Smith] emphasising the ‘chief’.

“Ooooh! Don’t forget the chief!” Elspeth mocked “John Smith?” she asked incredulously. Smith pulled his police ID out and replied

“Yes, and I could arrest you for attempting to procure a minor!”

“Wooo!” Elspeth mocked again. I looked at Debbie and Elspeth in an puzzled way,

“He’s a policeman.” Debbie said to me.



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