to get everything back on an even keel so that it could all be forgotten by the time the new term began in September. I believed that she would do the right thing and so we agreed to say no more about it.
For the remaining days at school everything went back to normal. Soon after, the summer holidays began, and we all looked forward to being home together as a family and getting to know baby Lilly. Money was a bit tight as we were saving to move, so we didn’t go abroad for a big holiday but spent a few days in Somerset with Paul’s family. We had a couple of day trips to the zoo and park, Gemma often went off to see her nan and all the kids had friends round for barbecues and things like that.
Gemma and her friends Louise and Ben hung out a lot together, going to the beach, the local shopping centre and so on, just like any other fifteen-year-olds, but I always insisted that she regularly texted me to let me know where she was and when she would be back home. She would sometimes stay over at Louise’s – they were practically living in eachother’s pockets at the time – and everything seemed to be back to normal after all the upset before the holidays.
I was still on maternity leave and was at home most of the time, so I would have known if there was anything untoward going on, wouldn’t I?
CHAPTER 4
BACK TO SCHOOL
A ll too quickly, the summer was over. I vividly remember the day Gemma went off to school in her new Year 11 uniform. It was different to the normal uniform, as kids in the year choose what colour polo top they wear; in 2012, they chose deep blue. I remember thinking how grown-up Gemma looked as she went off on her first day back. Even so, she was still my ‘little mermaid’. The first of my three daughters, she would always be my little girl.
When Gemma was tiny, I used to dress her up in frilly dresses, but when she grew up she didn’t dress as a ‘girly’ teenager at all. She was never one of those teenagers who hitched up her school skirt into a mini or wore too much make-up. In fact, if anything, she would dress down with flat shoes, dark eyeliner and quite ‘indie’ clothes. She never tried to look or act older than she was.
With exams looming, it was important that Gemma knuckled down. All the early indications were that she was getting to grips with the new term, and it seemed all of the rumours about her and Mr Forrest had been forgotten. Every day when she got home from school, I would ask how her day had been, and every day she would tell me, ‘Yes, everything’s fine.’
Unfortunately, on Wednesday, 19 September, two days before Gemma was to go missing, I was to discover that everything had been far from fine.
I was busy running around attending to Lilly and Alfie when there was a knock on the door. There on the doorstep were an official-looking man and a woman. They looked at me very seriously and showed me their ID cards. Instantly I felt physically sick and started shaking. ‘My name is Detective Constable Pawson,’ said the man, ‘and this is my colleague, who’s a social worker. We would like to speak to you about your daughter Gemma.’
Of course I immediately thought the worst had happened and they were going to tell me that Gemma had been involved in an accident or something. I panicked and told them I wouldn’t let them in until they told me the reason they were there. Now I know it sounds weird, but I thought everything would be all right so long as I could keep them outside; I felt safe in my space. I wasn’t going to budge until they told me why they were there.
‘We need to talk to you about a relationship your daughter Gemma may have been having with her teacher, Mr Jeremy Forrest.’
I have always been nervous about letting strangers into my house without really preparing myself; it is an insecurity of mine – I am very house proud and don’t like things to be outof place. At that point, though, I let them in, relieved that it was just about those
For the remaining days at school everything went back to normal. Soon after, the summer holidays began, and we all looked forward to being home together as a family and getting to know baby Lilly. Money was a bit tight as we were saving to move, so we didn’t go abroad for a big holiday but spent a few days in Somerset with Paul’s family. We had a couple of day trips to the zoo and park, Gemma often went off to see her nan and all the kids had friends round for barbecues and things like that.
Gemma and her friends Louise and Ben hung out a lot together, going to the beach, the local shopping centre and so on, just like any other fifteen-year-olds, but I always insisted that she regularly texted me to let me know where she was and when she would be back home. She would sometimes stay over at Louise’s – they were practically living in eachother’s pockets at the time – and everything seemed to be back to normal after all the upset before the holidays.
I was still on maternity leave and was at home most of the time, so I would have known if there was anything untoward going on, wouldn’t I?
CHAPTER 4
BACK TO SCHOOL
A ll too quickly, the summer was over. I vividly remember the day Gemma went off to school in her new Year 11 uniform. It was different to the normal uniform, as kids in the year choose what colour polo top they wear; in 2012, they chose deep blue. I remember thinking how grown-up Gemma looked as she went off on her first day back. Even so, she was still my ‘little mermaid’. The first of my three daughters, she would always be my little girl.
When Gemma was tiny, I used to dress her up in frilly dresses, but when she grew up she didn’t dress as a ‘girly’ teenager at all. She was never one of those teenagers who hitched up her school skirt into a mini or wore too much make-up. In fact, if anything, she would dress down with flat shoes, dark eyeliner and quite ‘indie’ clothes. She never tried to look or act older than she was.
With exams looming, it was important that Gemma knuckled down. All the early indications were that she was getting to grips with the new term, and it seemed all of the rumours about her and Mr Forrest had been forgotten. Every day when she got home from school, I would ask how her day had been, and every day she would tell me, ‘Yes, everything’s fine.’
Unfortunately, on Wednesday, 19 September, two days before Gemma was to go missing, I was to discover that everything had been far from fine.
I was busy running around attending to Lilly and Alfie when there was a knock on the door. There on the doorstep were an official-looking man and a woman. They looked at me very seriously and showed me their ID cards. Instantly I felt physically sick and started shaking. ‘My name is Detective Constable Pawson,’ said the man, ‘and this is my colleague, who’s a social worker. We would like to speak to you about your daughter Gemma.’
Of course I immediately thought the worst had happened and they were going to tell me that Gemma had been involved in an accident or something. I panicked and told them I wouldn’t let them in until they told me the reason they were there. Now I know it sounds weird, but I thought everything would be all right so long as I could keep them outside; I felt safe in my space. I wasn’t going to budge until they told me why they were there.
‘We need to talk to you about a relationship your daughter Gemma may have been having with her teacher, Mr Jeremy Forrest.’
I have always been nervous about letting strangers into my house without really preparing myself; it is an insecurity of mine – I am very house proud and don’t like things to be outof place. At that point, though, I let them in, relieved that it was just about those
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