I was taken was never a ..Now I feel pure terror AUTHOR ON HER FRIENDSHIP WITH MONSTER THAT HAUNTS HER
I AM sometimes described as “one of life’s ball-breakers”. I suffer no fools. I have worked flat out for more than 35 years; broken the glass ceiling to make a name in a man’s world.
I have written and published books about some of entertainment’s biggest names. I tackle TV interviews with ease, and film regularly for documentaries.
I am also the survivor of a crippling divorce during which I lost most of whatI’deverearned.Ihaveraisedthree exceptional children single-handedly.
I know about people. I know who my friends are. Not a lot scares me.
But this does: the thought of Gary Glitter soon walking free jail, after serving half of his sentence for the sexual abuse of several children.
Why? Was I one of the vile pervert’s victims? Until this week, I would have insisted not. I would have assured you that I was one of the lucky ones.
Because even though I befriended him, grew fond of him and spent an inordinate amount of time alone with him, I was never subjected to violation or abuse. Is that true?
It began to dawn on me he could soon be stalking the streets of London, perhaps even living in his cluttered old penthouse flat.
Anxious
As it occurred to me that he might start frequenting the old haunts and we could find ourselves seated beside one another, I found myself growing anxious.
I have never been prone to stress or depression. I am not one to dwell on the past, nor to waste time fearing the future. But lately, I am consumed by feelings of guilt.
My recent tendency to rush frequently to the bathroom, my clinical psychotherapist friend tells me, represents the urge to purge my body and consequently my mind of sinister feelings and unwelcome memories.
This is all due to the Leader of the Gang’s imminent release. I lie in bed at night, convinced the Glitter posters which graced my teenage bedroom walls are still staring down at me. Utterly irrational though all of this may sound, I am terrified that he is coming to get me.
He can have no idea where I live, nor any inkling of how to find me. But the thought that he might – and the fear he may try to punish me for having spoken and written of our past friendship and having betrayed our bond, is the thing keeping me awake at night. As such, Gary Glitter has become a rapist of my mind.
He, on the other hand, gets to walk free. He can re-invent himself. He can forget about the thousands of child abuse images found on his laptop by a repair technician in 1997.
That discovery prompted his escape to Cambodia, Thailand and Vietnam, where he acted out his paedophile fantasies. He abused under-age and poverty-stricken girls and colluded in their coercion to help him face lesser charges.
After being released from jail in 2008, he was deported back to Britain.
He was later arrested during the Operation Yewtree investigation, and in 2015 was given a 16-year jail sentence: his punishment for historical sex offences against little girls during the 1970s and 80s. The relief I felt on learning of his incarceration was incalculable.
I assumed the then 70-year-old was likely to die behind bars. But now, aged 78, he is afforded the privilege of wiping the slate clean.
He has been writing songs fervently in prison, it is rumoured. He may record and even tour again.
Would the fans flock to gape and be horrified?
Not that Glitter, whose real name is Paul Gadd, needs the money. The co-creator of over a dozen chart hits and over €20 million in record sales, and who will remain on the sex offender register for life, is reportedly sitting on a vast, dormant fortune.
Though no property, bank accounts, pensions, royalties nor
‘‘Glitter has become a rapist of my mind’