Whatever happened to... 7/7 survivor Rachel North?
Rachel North before the terrorist attacks
Wednesday 5th September 2007
Bad things happen in life. Horrible things, done by cruel, evil people. You can go through life working hard and being kind but, if bad luck's coming your way, you can't stop it.
I know from bitter experience. Because, on 7 July 2005, I was on a tube train, 7ft from where suicide bomber Germaine Lindsay detonated his bomb. After the bombing, you couldn't pick up a paper without seeing horrifying headlines.
TERROR ON THE UNDERGROUND, TUNNEL OF BLOOD
But no matter how dramatic the headlines, nothing could capture the utter terror of being trapped down there with the dead and the dying. Gasping for breath in the smoky air, the screams of fellow passengers ringing through my ears…
The weird thing was, in the panic and darkness, I could cope. Why? Because, three years earlier, in June 2002, a man forced his way into my flat, hit me, kicked me, raped me and left me for dead.
That animal had threatened me in my home while my boyfriend of four years, Jay, 35, was at work. I'd only managed to escape by playing dead and running naked into the street when he fled. And, while the 40 different injuries I'd suffered healed in three months and I'd gone back to work at an advertising firm in London, I was haunted by panic attacks.
But, with Jay's help, I got better. I even felt strong enough to give evidence in court and see my attacker jailed for 15 years. Then, by some cruel twist of fate, I was on the tube on 7 July. I got on the crowded carriage at Finsbury Park and started reading a magazine. Suddenly, an almighty boom blasted through the air.
Everything happened so fast, I couldn't make sense of it. Images flashed in front of me. Screaming, squirming bodies. Blood splattered on the floor and walls. One by one, those of us able to move started walking through the tunnel. It was like my survival instinct kicked in.
'Come on,' I said, as we ushered each other through the darkness.
Bloodied and blackened, we emerged from the tunnel. As a ticket inspector thrust a bottle of water in my trembling hands, I looked around in a daze. There had been four blasts that morning. Two other tubes had been bombed, and a bus had its roof blown clean off.
At University College Hospital, I was treated for a shock. A doctor patched up hundreds of cuts from flying glass and metal. Back at home, I switched on the telly and watched the news obsessively for more information. There were 52 dead — 26 in my carriage alone.
Days later, I felt like I needed to talk about what I'd been through. So I sat at my computer and started to write. I posted the message on a London internet message board. Next day, when I checked the site, I had dozens of messages of support, some from other survivors. It was just the boost I needed.
From then on, I kept an internet diary — a blog — which had hundreds of readers One of them was a lady I'd never met called Felicity Lowde. Normally, she'd write complimentary comments. But, 10 months after the bomb, in May 2006, she changed completely.
'Why didn't you stay and help the dying?' she wrote.
'Ignore her,' Jay reassured me.
But after that, I started getting messages from her almost every day.
'You're lying about the rape,' she said. 'You're making a living off the back of the dead.'
Why was this stranger going out of her way to hurt me?
Finally, I went to the police.
'She has a history of this,' the officer said. 'Will you give evidence against Lowde in court?'
More courts, more fighting… Could I put myself through it?
Then I stopped. I hadn't run scared from anything so far, and I wasn't starting now.
'Yes,' I said firmly.
So I made a statement and, in April 2007, Lowde, 41, was arrested for harassment.
Finally, the day arrived and I stood in court, heart thumping. But she failed to show. Talk about spineless.
Thankfully, two months after her conviction, the police got a tip-off and, in June 2007, she was finally brought to court for sentencing. This was the first time I'd actually seen the woman who'd tormented me in the flesh. And what a surprise it was. I couldn't believe someone so respectable-looking and ordinary was responsible for such cruelty.
Lowde was jailed for six months, the maximum sentence for a crime of that nature. She was also given a restraining order and a five-year anti-social behaviour order.
So finally, after three attacks, two court cases, and a list of physical injuries too long to go into, I reckon my string of bad luck's over. And believe it or not, I still feel lucky. Why? Because, I've realised how strong the human spirit can be.
Every week Pick Me Up revisits someone who made the headlines in the past. Check out our other amazing go-backs:
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