Attacked as I prepared to give birth because of my uncle’s sick fantasy
Pregnant Jemma Llewellyn, 23, from Basildon, was sound asleep when a predator pounced… Living nightmare
My period was late and I was starting to suspect I might be expecting. ‘Just do it,’ my friend, Missy said, pressing a pregnancy test into my hand and pushing me towards the bathroom. ‘Ok, ok,’ I sighed, reluctantly. I locked the door and sat down on the toilet, peeing on the plastic stick and anxiously waiting for the result.
Within a minute, two blue lines appeared on the stick.
‘It’s positive,’ I said, not knowing whether to laugh or cry.
I was 20 years old, and I had been with my boyfriend, Jay, for three years, but we hadn’t planned on starting a family of our own.
It took me three days to pluck up the courage to break my pregnancy news to him.
‘That’s amazing,’ he smiled, when I finally blurted it out, wrapping his arms around me.
I was nervous telling my mum, Sharon, but once she’d got over the shock she was supportive.
As the weeks passed, my bump grew and Jay and I stocked up on nappies, wipes, blankets and babygrows in preparation for our little one’s arrival.
When I was seven months gone, Mum invited me round hers for a girly night in.
‘We can watch trashy TV and have a good old natter,’ she said.
‘Sounds perfect, Mum!’ I smiled.
‘Uncle Richard won’t be there though, will he?’
My uncle, Richard Wallis, 36, had been crashing in Mum’s spare room for a while.
I’d never been close to him – he’d always creeped me out so I made sure to keep my distance.
‘Don’t worry I’ll make sure he’s out,’ Mum assured me.
‘It’ll just be me and you.’
As I walked through the front door at Mum’s, the smell of a delicious home-cooked meal made my stomach rumble.
‘Yum, what’s for tea?’ I asked, strolling into the kitchen.
‘Sausage and mash, your favourite,’ she smiled, plating it up.
We tucked in and then flopped onto the sofa and flicked on the TV to watch Friends.
‘How about some chocolate?’ Mum asked, opening a bar of Dairy Milk.
‘Ooo go on then,’ I said, popping a few squares into my mouth.
After a few hours, Mum called it a night and headed up to bed.
‘I’m going to stay down here and watch
Supernatural on my laptop,’ I told her, pulling a blanket over me and getting cosy.
But I must have drifted off. The next thing I knew, I was woken with a jolt at 4am.
What was it?
Opening my eyes, I found Uncle
Richard over me.
His sweaty hands were grabbing at my leggings.
He pulled them down and started assaulting me.
Sensing my fear, he clasped his hand over my mouth.
‘Please don’t tell your mum,’ he begged, refusing to let go until I nodded back.
I started to have a panic attack and Uncle Richard fled to the kitchen.
I didn’t know what he was doing in the next room, but I could hear him rummaging around in the cutlery drawer.
I thought he was going to find a knife and stab me.
But Uncle Richard returned from the kitchen empty-handed and went upstairs to his bedroom.
Still shaking with terror, I grabbed my phone and immediately left the house.
Running out onto the street, I called my boyfriend, Jay, and he came to meet me with his friend.
Hysterical, I tried to tell them what had happened but I could
‘Please don’t tell your mum’
barely get my words out. Soon my phone rang.
It was Mum.
‘I’m so sorry,’ she sobbed. ‘This is all my fault.’
Jay was livid and disgusted and ran all the way to Mum’s house to confront Uncle Richard.
But by the time he had got there, Richard had already gone.
Full of tears, Mum contacted my nan and grandad – her and Richard’s parents
– and got them to come around to help her change the house locks so that Richard couldn’t return.
Devastated, I felt I’d failed to protect my unborn daughter.
Three days after the assault, I plucked up the courage to report it to the police.
I had to go to the station to record a video statement.
Social services had already been involved during my pregnancy because of my mental health and I worried they might try and take away my daughter, but they reassured me it wasn’t my fault.
Officers were unable to locate Richard for two weeks.
He had shaved all of his hair and his beard off – which was really out of character – as his hair was everything to him.
When they eventually caught up with him - at the Argos warehouse where he worked – he was arrested.
At first, he denied it all and kept changing his story – saying that he only touched my thigh.
However, after examining his phone, police found searches for uncle and niece related porn that had been carried out three days prior.
He had searched terms like ‘uncle raping niece’, ‘finally alone with niece’ and ‘how to take advantage of someone in their sleep’.
It made me feel completely sick to the stomach.
I knew he’d always been a creep and he’d made inappropriate comments before, but I never expected him to violate me the way he did.
There is a
disorder called genetic sexual condition disorder which Richard told me he had when he was drunk, so I just brushed it off and tried not to be around him – just thinking that he was weird.
I had
deliberately made sure he wasn’t going to be there before I went round that night because he made me feel uncomfortable – but he turned up unannounced.
He had told
Mum he wouldn’t be back until the morning but he must have let himself in.
The case was
initially listed for trial, but Richard failed to attend. I was frightened
to leave my house, and struggled to reach out to my family and friends.
If my own blood could do that to me, who could I rely on?
However, five days before a second trial, he pleaded guilty.
On 22 March, Richard Wallace, 36, was jailed for three years and eight months at Basildon Crown Court, Essex.
He admitted to one count of sexual assault by penetration, and will be on the sex offenders’ register for the rest of his life.
It had taken two years for the CPS to take it to court because he wouldn’t disclose his phone code and he was being really difficult.
In that time, I gave birth to my baby daughter, Nirvana, and I also went on to have a little baby boy, Rio, ten months.
Sadly, we now live in a council flat in the same building as the attack took place.
It brings back horrendous memories of that night.
Since the attack, I now suffer from severe depression and anxiety as well as violent nightmares.
After having my daughter Nirvana, I also was diagnosed with post-natal depression.
I felt robbed of my dream pregnancy and childbirth.
What Richard did to me left me on edge and took away any happiness at a time that was supposed to be full of joy.
I struggled to know who to trust. You think you can rely on your family for everything, but Richard left me doubting everyone and feeling totally isolated.
I hope now – that in voicing my experience – it will encourage other victims to come forward to report abuse and seek justice.
Your relatives are supposed to love and protect you.
What my uncle did to me will leave me scarred for life, but I refuse to let it define me.
I lost trust in my family