On Friday, 21 September 2012, less than 24 hours since I had packed Gemma off to Louise’s for a sleepover, my whole world was turned upside down. And to think, I had started the day with nothing more to worry about than what kind of furniture we wanted to buy from Argos …
Detective Constable Pawson and the school police officer came into the sitting room, where the family had gathered waiting for news. Our minds had been racing, trying to make sense of things and wondering what had happened to Gemma. No one wanted to admit their fears.
When DC Pawson then said, ‘We know who she’s with’, I was chilled to the core.
The school police officer recapped the information that they had. Following DC Pawson’s visit to us earlier in the week, he had been liaising with the school. The moment Gemma went missing, he requested that a number of cross-checks be made on Forrest.
DC Pawson’s suspicions about Forrest had proved to be correct: he and Gemma were together.
‘We have CCTV footage of Jeremy Forrest and Gemma boarding a ferry at 9.20pm last night from Dover to Calais. We tracked his car number plate from Eastbourne to the ferry crossing.’
I jumped up, screamed ‘Nooooo,’ and ran out of the room. Once again I found myself thinking, ‘If I’m not there, it’s not happening.’ It can’t be happening. I wanted to run, but I had nowhere to run to. My coping mechanism was to deny that my darling daughter could have been taken by this man. Things like this didn’t happen to people like us.
Back in the sitting room with Paul, Max, Mum and Charlotte there was a whirlwind of questions. What was being done? When would they arrest him? When would Gemma be back? Did Gemma looked scared on the CCTV footage? Had he kidnapped her? Could he have molested her? Everyone wanted to speak; they wanted answers.
For me, it was just a blur. I went to the other side of the room trying to escape what I had just heard. Surely it is a mistake, I kept telling myself. Surely she will be home in a minute.
DC Pawson explained to us that Forrest had phoned in sick the day before. When the police report about Gemma going missing came through, he had called Forrest’s home and spoken to his wife, who said he was away on a course in London. DC Pawson put two and two together – the rumours, the pictures, the pair of them going missing from school – and then it was just a matter of tracking down Forrest’s car number plate.
By then, though, Forrest and Gemma had got a 15-hour head start on the police and were already over the border in France. The police said they were in contact with P&O Ferries and that officers were going to Dover to collect the CCTV images.
There was one glimmer of hope that we could all cling on to – Forrest had bought return tickets and they were due back in Dover on the 10pm ferry on Sunday night.
I tried to persuade myself that Gemma might ring me; after all, she would know how upset I would be that she had disappeared. I told myself maybe, just maybe, it was totally innocent, but deep down I knew I was kidding myself.
Paul was great and immediately took charge of the kids, making sure they were fed and tucked up in bed. Max was brilliant, too, doing everything he could. Everyone pulled together and tried to stay strong.
I didn’t cry, and I didn’t hassle the police to do more than they were doing already. I didn’t feel any anger; in fact, I didn’t feel any emotion at all – I was just numb. It was all too much for me to take in.
The sequence of events is a bit of a blur, but I do remember that at some stage a family liaison officer called Jim arrived. To start off with, he acted suspiciously with us, watching how we all interacted. I suppose he was trying to see if there was anything untoward going on. As we took calls from various family members and friends, he silently took it all in. It was a bit weird, but this was the least of my worries at the time.
I can’t remember if I slept that night. From the moment I heard Gemma had gone missing, I stopped being myself. I felt like I was somehow on the outside, looking in, watching it all unfold. People were running around, fussing over me and the kids, trying to comfort me, encouraging me to eat and so on, but I was just blank. I started obsessing over stupid things. Would she have eaten? What clothes had she got with her? Does he know she is afraid of the dark?
But as I was soon to discover, the nightmare was only just beginning …