Was my daughter out for revenge?
Sally and Rod Swainson
Thursday 27th September 2007
It was the crackle of the police radios that woke us.
'What's going on?' I asked my husband, Rod, 41.
'No idea,' he shrugged.
It was 4am and we were curled up in bed listening to the noise in the street below. Our children, Cameron, 8, and Bailey, 7, were asleep in the room next door. Was it a burglary?
Suddenly someone started banging on our front door. As I bounded downstairs I thought about my older children, Amy, 20, and Jason, 16, from two previous relationships. Amy had left home and Jason lived with his dad. Had something happened to one of them?
Swinging open the door, I staggered back. What the..? Two police officers carrying a huge, metal battering ram were crouched, poised ready to smash down my front door.
'Is Ron Swainson in?' one of the officers snapped.
'I'm here,' Ron said, appearing at my side.
With that a police woman stepped forward and pulled me into the kitchen. I strained to listen…
'Ron Swainson,' an officer began. 'Your stepdaughter, Amy Jones, has made allegations that you've raped her since she was 12. You're under arrest.'
'That's a lie,' I screamed.
A horrible, wicked, lie that just couldn't be true - could it?
Rod and I'd been married for eight years. Back then, when I'd moved from our home in Retford, Nottinghamshire, to join Rod 70 miles away in Manchester, Amy and Jason, had wanted to stay behind.
'We'll miss our friends,' they'd moaned.
Amy was 12, Jason just 8.
'We'll work something out,' I'd promised.
So Jason had moved in with his dad, while Amy stayed with my mum, Ann, 60. My family had split but it hadn't torn us apart. The kids stayed during school holidays and they loved Rod. I had so many happy memories. The family piling into the car for day trips to Blackpool, picnics in the park… If Rod had been abusing Amy I would have known, right?
Rod, an electrician, was a keen bodybuilder. Although he looked intimidating he was a big softie.
'My gentle giant,' I called him.
He was sweet, caring, a good father - not an abuser!
When Amy had turned 17 she'd moved in with us. Ron had welcomed her and when Amy had announced she was a lesbian he'd been nothing but supportive. He'd even let her girlfriends come to stay. First there'd been Laura, 21. Now Amy's new girlfriend was called Kelly Mackin, 18.
Then suddenly I remembered… The week before we'd fallen out with Amy. Her girlfriend, Kelly, had been staying at the house and, as neither of them had jobs, we'd been supporting them. Unmotivated, they'd hung round the house day and night.
'Enough's enough,' Rod had snapped. 'Sort your life out. Go to college, get a job.'
A few nights later they'd woken the house up as they dragged their suitcases downstairs.
'What are you doing?' I'd gasped.
'We're leaving,' Amy had snapped. 'We're not welcome here.'
Then she'd turned to Rod.
'You're going to regret this,' she'd spat.
Had Amy made up the allegation to get revenge?
A couple of hours later the police returned with a social worker. She explained Amy was staying with Kelly's mum in Bury, Greater Manchester, but I wasn't allowed to contact her.
She also explained that if Rod was charged, then released, he'd have to live somewhere else and he'd need to be supervised around the children.
'Y-You're joking!' I gasped.
Suddenly the enormity of Amy's lie hit me. This was going to tear Rod's life apart.
After they left, I sat by the phone, trembling. Who could I turn too? We lived in a tough area of Manchester and I'd read horror stories about how local communities reacted to rapists and paedophiles. If word got out that Rod had been arrested for rape people would label him guilty.I could already picture the graffiti, the death threats.
So I turned to the only person I could think of who'd be supportive - Daniel, 17, Rod's son from a previous relationship. Over those next few days, while Daniel looked after the kids, I waited by the phone. It was six days before the solicitor told me Rod was appearing at Ashton Magistrates Court to be formally charged. I watched from the public gallery as he was led into the dock.
He was still wearing the same jeans and t-shirt he'd pulled on just before he'd been arrested and his face was unshaven. Suddenly I overheard a group of women talking behind me.
'Look at him…' one of them sneered. 'He's definitely guilty.'
Fuming, I turned around.
'That's my husband you're talking about,' I snapped.
With that one of the women spat in my face.
Stunned, I fought back tears as I wiped her saliva from my cheek.
This was exactly how I'd imagined people would react.
Rod was bailed to his friend's flat in Manchester. I was waiting for him as he was bundled out the back door of the court.
'I didn't do it,' he said.
'I believe you,' I sobbed.
Back at his friend's we sat in stunned silence.
'Why is she doing this?' Rod finally said. 'I've only ever been good to her.'
I felt so guilty. Amy was my daughter, my flesh and blood.
'I don't know,' I wept.
Back home, I took down all of Amy's photos and shoved them in a drawer. Then I bagged up her clothes and dumped them in the bin.
'I don't know how I'll ever forgive her,' I wept to Daniel.
Three weeks after Rod was bailed I went with him to a meeting with social services.
'If you're convicted you'll be put on the sex offenders register,' a social worker explained. 'Your children will be put on the at risk register.'
Holding Rod's hand, I could feel him trembling.
'He won't be convicted,' I snapped defiantly.
At that moment another social worker popped her head round the door.
'Stop this meeting,' she said.
'Why?' I gasped. 'Are you going to take away my children?'
'No,' she smiled. 'We can't say right now but it's good news. We'll be in touch.'
Good news? The only good news would be if Amy had admitted her lies.
It was a week before our solicitor called and told us that's exactly what had happened.
'It's over,' he told us.
Yes, in some ways, it was over. But the aftermath of Amy's lies was devastating. It was another six weeks before Rod's charges were officially dropped and even then he refused to move back into the family home.
'It holds too many bad memories,' he said.
When he did pop round he refused to be left in the same room with the children's friends.
'I can't put myself in a position where I might be accused of something,' he shrugged.
He was a frightened, broken man.
I hate Amy for that.
In March this year it was Amy in the dock. Not Rod. She was charged with perverting the course of justice. It was three months later that she called. She was staying with a friend.
'Can we meet?' she said.
'OK,' I told her.
I walked round to the house and as Amy opened the door she lent forward for a hug.
'No,' I snapped.
'I'm sorry,' she shrugged. 'I wanted to punish Rod for asking Kelly and I to leave.'
'You're saying sorry to the wrong person,' I replied.
We went shopping but it was awkward and we didn't meet again. A months later, in July I was at Minshull Crown Court to see Amy plead guilty to the charge. She was jailed for four months.
Rod still hasn't moved home and I don't know if our marriage is strong enough to survive this nightmare. I'll always love Amy. She's my daughter. But right now I'm not sure I'll ever like her again.
Rod says: 'I still feel so betrayed and hurt at what Amy has done to me. It'll be a shadow hanging over my head for the rest of my life. Everyone has been so supportive but, even though my name's been cleared, I still feel like people are judging me. Some people must believe there's no smoke without fire. It's put a huge strain on my marriage to Sally but I'm hoping we'll pull through. As for Amy? It's still too early to say whether I can ever forgive her or if I'll ever want to see her again.'
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