I never thought the day would dawn where I would find
myself in what was a living hell. Only a few days ago I had
been making the final arrangements for my wedding. Life was
great I was in love and I was shouting it from the rooftops! The
door to a completely new chapter in my life was opening but
now that door had cruelly slammed tightly shut.

Gripped by fear I shrank into the dark shadowy corner of the room in which I was being held captive. Terrifying thoughts kept flooding into
my mind, crippling my ability to think straight. I could not banish
them. Nothing in life could have ever prepared me for what
lay ahead. My head was spinning and now I knew what “blind
panic” meant. I raised my hands to cover my ears, in a futile
attempt to block out his hammering footsteps, which echoed in
the distance, every step bringing him closer and closer again.
I knew that when he walked into the room my fate was sealed.
Tears streamed down my face. Lying there, I felt very vulnerable.
The stark realisation hit home, no one could help me. I was a
caught in a trap from which there was no means of escape. I
thought of the times I had read of other missing women, unableto imagine what pain and torment they were going through, but
one thing I knew for certain — it was a rare occasion that they
ever reappear. Once the newspapers stopped reporting people
forgot about them. I worried that that was going to be my fate
too. I closed my eyes and pressed my body hard against the
wall hoping that the blackness of the room would swallow me up

— I hoped too that my suffering at his hands would be short—
lived. 25th April 1985 started bright and sunny. The weather had
been poor for the previous couple of weeks. Heavy rain had
flooded parts of the road, and I had been taking the bus to
the school instead of riding my bicycle. I was full of the joys of
spring the day he took me. Deep in though, I cycled along the
lane to the school where I taught in the little village of Holmside.
It was a quiet little backwater just a couple of miles from the
home I shared with my parents. The houses were built around
a traditional greenand right in the centre of it was a pond which
was home to a family of ducks. Ours was a sleepy little hamlet
and life there was gentle. The neighbours were like family.
The old stone school where I taught was nestled in a beautiful
meadow just behind the church. It was here on warm summer
days I would bring “my” children out into the sunshine to learn.
I loved that meadow. There was always such an abundance of
wild flowers and a plethora of wild insects, butterfl ies, ladybirds,
crickets and damsel fl ies but so much more. The children loved
nothing better than to bring their books and pencils outside
and sit with “Miss”. I felt privileged to be part of life at the little
village school. Thoughts of those happy days comforted me
and I wished I were there right now. I tried to distract myself by
reminiscing about the good times in the village. For generations
the heart and spirit of the village had scarcely changed. I
recalled the “vintage” day we held each year. Stalls were set
up on the village green and people could buy crafts made by
the local community. There would be homemade pies, pastry
tarts, chutney, and all those other special eats that are handed
down from mother to daughter. The men would turn up in their
vintage cars. The farmers would sit proudly on their tractors
and you could tell from their faces how proud they were of their
machines. Some of the vehicles were from years gone by but
still much loved and care for. Often there would be a blacksmith
on hand to demonstrate the art of shoeing horses. Everyone
from the village took great pride in making it a day not to be
forgotten.

Holmside, where life was slow and gentle, this was the life
I was used to if only I could be there now. My parents were
so excited that “their girl” was planning to wed. They wanted
to ensure that I had the best wedding ever, with no expense
spared. What I wanted I was going to get. Mum and Dad were
going to make sure that their little Lily would have a fantastic
wedding how must they be feeling at this moment. Not knowing
where I was would be causing them such pain and that caused
me my most anxiety. I tried to send them my love by repeatedly
chanting “I love you Mum and Dad. I relived my happiness
going with Mum to choose my wedding dress. Such a simple
pleasure but now I might never get to wear it. I thought of the
children and their excitement when I told them that they would
not be standing outside the church, but inside the church singing
for us! The little mites were so excited; they were jumping and
dancing around the room. I though too of Tom, he would be
inconsolable. I knew that he would search forever If necessary
to find me and bring me home. My Tom is a schoolteacher too;
he lives in the pretty hamlet of Burton, ten miles south of Holm
side. He’s a good—looking fella; six feet tall with a shock of brown, curly hair. I fell in love with him the moment our eyes
met. He has a mischievous sense of humour which is one of
the reasons I fell in love with him. I adore him. How I wished
his arms were wrapped round me, now keeping me safe. The
morning I was snatched from the bike — yes now you know; I
was forcibly taken. I had been day—dreaming about our new
house as I rode along. We had bought a beautiful old house and
were busy renovating it. It had a quaint name ‘Badger Cottage’
we’d fallen in love with it from the moment we walked inside the
front door. Perhaps if I had been paying more attention to the
road I would have noticed the old van parked suspiciously in the
road ahead of me. I was weaving back and forth over the road
in an attempt to make the slight incline easier to negotiate but
the extra labour involved made me puff and pant. I remember
grinning just thinking about the lovely food I would enjoy later;
I began to pedal faster. All this dolly daydreaming was going
to make me late getting to school! I leant forward and began
pedaling furiously and I began laughing aloud as I went. Life
was wonderful. Next thing I was lying on the road next to the
van.