Hailey's Story--She Was an Eleven-Year-Old Child. He Was Soham Murderer Ian Huntley. This is the Story of How She Survived (19 page)

J
UST ABOUT EVERY GIRL DREAMS OF HAVING A CHURCH WEDDING
. All our trouble behind us – well, sort of – we married on the afternoon of 3 July 2004 at St Peter's Church, in Humberston, with the Reverend Brian East officiating.

What marred our wedding to some degree were the veiled allegations and threats from certain members of my family before the day, but, all in all, I was relieved to end up in the arms of the man who really cares for me. At long last, we'll spend our lives together, I told myself.

Of course, we were head over heels in love with each other and had never been so happy. And I don't think I would be alive today if it wasn't for Colin's
normality. There are only a few people that are normal, I've decided.

Although Mum and Dad attended the wedding, none of my brothers was invited and, thankfully, none came to offer their blessing. Because of the press interest, we decided not to have a massive gathering. A lot of things were said, but, that aside, it was the best day of my life. There were many emotions running through me as we said our vows and, not surprisingly, I was very nervous, knowing that the world's press were waiting outside to get a snap of us. Well, just like
Hello!
fiercely protects its wedding photos, Colin and I somehow managed to sneak to our limousine without any of them actually getting a photo of us. I had now become Mrs Giblin. It was what I had longed for, and the fairytale wedding I had dreamed of was now complete.

This was the first time that I felt loved and cherished. Colin used to say, ‘Nobody will ever touch a hair on your head, because I would be the one hurting them.' I felt the safest I had been and the most secure. Obviously, it has everything to do with our love and the happiness, but we have developed such a strong bond of unity that nobody could break it, although some evil people keep trying.

Those trying to break the bond are family and
ex-friends
and people who judge us. While they are wasting their time judging our relationship, it's really their relationships that are falling to pieces, not ours.
We're not just soul mates and lovers, we're best friends, and we don't let anybody come between us.

I know that some people might consider the age difference between Colin and me to be a problem, but I don't think that age has got anything to do with it. Some people may disagree, but you can't help who you fall in love with. I could be with somebody who is my age, go through all the trouble and all the things coming out in the press about Huntley and my husband's finding out about it, and he might not be strong-minded enough to cope.

I don't want to be involved with some young thug more interested in swilling booze, hitting the drugs or out there just nicking cars and breaking into old people's houses and causing trouble on a Saturday night.

I would prefer to sit at home with a bottle of wine, chatting on a Saturday night. That is the way I enjoy myself. I like living the fast life but, sometimes, when it gets too fast, I need to slow down a bit and think about what I am doing.

Having added stability to my life, I decided to take steps to bring closure to a part of my life that would otherwise always haunt me. In August 2004, having written a letter to the Humberside Police telling them how unhappy I was at the treatment I had received and how they conducted the inquiry in 1998, I received a letter from Detective Chief Superintendent Gavin Baggs. This outlined the form of the inquiry into
Huntley that the police would undertake at my request.

I feel they have breached my human rights by putting me through this for a year and it has left me feeling very bitter. It was probably the worst day of my life. I felt like a disbelieved 11-year-old all over again!

The police promised to return paperwork, which has not been returned to me at the time of writing, late 2005. However, what they did give to me was far more sacred than paperwork: the police interview of me from 1998, on videotape. Some readers may have seen extracts of the video interview on
ITN News
on British ITV and many European news channels. What I said in that lip-biting, stomach-churning interview as a child was pretty damaging.

I now feel that the only line of attack that I have left to bring closure to this ordeal is to have Huntley sentenced in court for what he did to me. Even if it were only a light token sentence, it would make me happy to think, Yes, now you are getting punished because you are spending that extra day in prison because of me. It's because of what you did to me that you are being punished.

At present, I feel that he's just laughing in the face of the police. No doubt this book will provoke some comment from them, even if in private, and I want that comment to be aimed at Huntley, not me. Remember, it is Huntley who caused all this, not me.

Right now he's in his cell and he's laughing; he knows
he's a celebrity convict, a trophy to be held aloft for all to see, while in private he will get all he demands, even bottles of vodka. And, if in 25 years' time they come up with some wonder drug that can curb what these evil monsters do, then he could be out even sooner than 40 years from now – just as in my nightmare.

On the other hand, if I were to kill him, would I get 25 years in prison and would I be branded the same? If I were to see him in the street, I wouldn't be able to control myself. I don't want this man to be freed in 40 years' time, but neither do I want him dead. I want his living hell to continue for as long as my living hell goes on. I want him to be kept alive for as long as I am living my nightmare.

However, I do fear that there is a likelihood that he could eventually be freed. In order to stop that from happening, I would like to hammer home the final nail in his coffin by bringing a private criminal prosecution, which I am allowed to do. But only time will tell if I do.

Huntley hates the word ‘paedophile' and says, ‘I'm no paedophile.' Well, plainly, he
is
a paedophile. By putting your hands into a little girl's knickers in a sexual way, that is what you are, and, if you don't want to be classed as that, don't do it.

This man considers himself to be a different type of criminal. He thinks that he is a celebrity, and he is relying on that celebrity status to make things happen. He knows if he threatens to kill himself they will jump
for him, as they don't want him dead. He knows if he so much as coughs the press will be there to pick it up. It's his way of exerting control, and he's still at it.

I often wonder, What if they reintroduced capital punishment? No, hanging's too easy and it's too quick. I want people to walk past him and take chunks off him, or somebody to do something to him that would give him nightmares, but to make him pay and to hurt him mentally, physically, every way that you possibly could, the way that he did to me. Most of my scars are on the inside. I'm still a living victim. I haven't recovered. I don't think I will.

The girls that came forward at the time have made complaints, but our screams for help fell on deaf ears, on cold hearts; that's how I see it.

Right now I just want a normal, peaceful life with no screaming and shouting, nobody there unless I feel safe with them and nobody to ever hurt me again. I want to stand up and fight and be the independent person that I am.

Most abuse victims have the feeling of self-blame: I've been sexually abused and nobody will want me now. I would like to help them by example to show that the feeling of self-worth can be restored. To those who have suffered sexual abuse of any sort, I say there is always light at the end of the tunnel.

I have great respect for those working with children that are going off the rails. I would like to tell them my
story or for them to read my book and I hope that it will go on to inspire them to know that life doesn't stop just because of the abuse they have suffered. I know this has happened to me. I have had years and years of torment and troubles, but one day I will be able to grow up strong and further my career in whatever I want to do. You can be somebody rather than just sit and think that your life has come to an end. Have faith.

For all the victims out there, have a voice and if the police try to fob you off with ‘Sorry, we don't have enough evidence', just keep fighting. You have a right to fight. While paedophiles, abusers and their kind are out there, we all have to fight them. Even women who have put up with it for 30 years, try to put your foot down and think, I don't want this to happen to my siblings, my children and my friends' children or to anybody else. To have a voice and keep shouting and shouting and shouting until somebody listens is what is important, and that is what I intend to do.

I also want to embark on a lingerie-modelling career to show the world that, just because you have been a victim, you don't necessarily have to be pushed around by someone who ruined your childhood. I still want a career in modelling, not to prove to anybody else, but to prove to myself, that I am capable of doing something that I enjoy doing and, hopefully, be an inspiration to other children, to other sufferers, other victims. I will always stand proud for who and what I am.

Something came to my notice during the course of my creating this book; it was a newspaper headline that read: ‘Disgraced officer to face “hell of all hells”'. This was to do with the disgraced Soham Inquiry police officer Detective Constable Brian Stevens, who gave the police a false alibi when faced with allegations that he downloaded child porn to his laptop.

I read with concern that the family of Jessica Chapman said that they felt betrayed that Stevens, their liaison officer, used their grief to bolster up his defence in his trial at the Old Bailey, which may have helped him secure the rather lenient prison sentence of eight months for conspiring to pervert the course of justice.

What made matters worse for me was when I read of the involvement of a female executive officer for the CPS, Louise Austin, who provided the alibi for Stevens. She was given a six-month prison sentence, suspended for two years.

This ‘hell of all hells' Stevens was meant to be facing pales into insignificance compared with the pain endured by an abuse victim. At least Stevens was released from his prison sentence. Abuse victims never escape their time behind scars.

Grandly betraying the trust placed in him by family members when he was asked to read a poem at the celebration of life service at Ely Cathedral, he tainted for ever what should have been a poignant reminder of Jessica Chapman's life.

So many lives have been ruined by the acts of Huntley, a wantonly evil man, and all those he came into contact with bear some type of psychological scarring. I have made little mention of Maxine Carr, who lied for Huntley and now she pays the price, for ever a prisoner to those circumstances, always in need of constant protection from the threat of violence that shadows her closely guarded life.

In drawing your attention to my story, I hope I have shown the sensationalism attached to Huntley and how he has achieved the ultimate power that he never gained before.

Huntley will not be considered for release from prison until he is 69. This was decreed by High Court judge Mr Justice Moses, who ordered that he must serve a minimum sentence of at least 40 years – minus the 14 months he spent on remand before his trial.

This long-awaited announcement had been delayed because Huntley's trial ended when the law relating to the setting of prison tariffs was changing.

Mr Justice Moses said, ‘His actions in pretending to exhibit innocent concern after the murders demonstrate his lack of remorse.'

Although the judge emphasised, ‘I have not ordered that this defendant will not spend the rest of his life in prison,' this did not mean that he would not spend the rest of his life in prison.

I am younger, stronger and a born fighter, and one
day I will see the whites of Ian Huntley's eyes, and, although he has locked me behind bars, incarcerated me, for the rest of my life, we have that in common, but I have the key to my cell door, which he can never again close on me.

I want to ‘rid' myself of the tag ‘Huntley's Victim'. I know that real people like and respect me for being me – Hailey Giblin. Ian Kevin Huntley was born a bastard and will die a bastard. I used to think that I needed him to admit his crimes for me to obtain the closure I desperately longed for.

When I had almost finished writing this book, something dawned on me, and I now understand that this was just another hold Huntley had over me and his other victims. So I have a message for you, Ian Huntley: one day, I will see the whites of your eyes once more and we can then do it the easy way or the hard way. And, finally, I don't need your admission of guilt to feel believed. Your selfish, perverted actions spoke louder than words.

Now, too, I realise that some of the contents of this book may well hurt some people. I can only be me and I can only be honest, and, for being just that, I am sorry.

At the end of 2005, I asked the Humberside Police Force for witness statements and case notes relating to my attack from 1998, plus the statements that were also taken in 2005, so that I could pursue a private prosecution against Huntley. They told me that they
had to write to each witness to gain their consent for the witness statements could be released to me.

I was sent a copy of their letter to the witnesses, which read:

RE: HAILEY JAYNE GIBLIN

(FORMERLY EDWARDS)