Nobody Came: The Appalling True Story of Brothers Cruelly Abused in a Jersey Care Home
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A harrowing account by one of the survivors of the Haut de la Garenne children's home Robbie was born in Jersey fifty six years ago. When he was five his mother placed him and his three siblings in care. They were collected from their home by the police. It was the same day that the children had witnessed their father's suicide attempt by hanging. The children were separated; Robbie and his younger brother were taken to The Sacre Coeur, an orphanage for children under twelve, while their elder brother was placed in Haut de la Garenne. Their baby sister disappeared. The boys never saw her again. Robbie and his three year old brother were bewildered and frightened by their surroundings. Their world as they had known it had disintegrated in just a matter of a few hours. They had sobbed as their eldest brother was taken away from them; they had never been apart before. Sacre Coeur, run by nuns, was a place where unimaginable abuse was committed against defenceless small children. The nuns gave them no explanation. Just gave them their scratchy uniforms and showed them their dormitory. They had joined the tribe of lost boys; the ones who no one cared about. The two boys were eventually transferred to Haut de la Garenne, a place where sick twisted minds had devised even more tortuous methods of sexually abusing the helpless. There were suicides there. One boy blew himself up by creeping into a bunker with a supply of butane gas. And of course there were the children who simply disappeared. Gone somewhere better Robbie was told. After all in a children's home there was a lot of coming and going. Today Robbie holds down a full time job and looks after his brother who he has loved and cared for since they were those little frightened boys. He wonders what happened to his friends who disappeared.
in one of his and, using his other hand and his teeth, he quickly tied them together. I stood rooted to the spot with fear. ‘I warned you what happens to little boys who say the word “no” to me.’ He picked Davie up by his knotted wrists and hung him from a free peg set between the dead chickens on one side and the last untouched bunch of flapping, living ones on the other. Neville sliced one of their throats and pulled it so it dripped blood close to Davie’s face. ‘Your turn next!’ he said.
smile for I was just so pleased to see him. ‘Hi, Davie, are you all right?’ A faintly puzzled look crossed his face, his eyes shut and I knew he had fallen back to sleep again. He stayed in the sick bay for a week. I went to see him every free moment. I sat at his bedside, talked to him and drew him pictures, but all I got in return was a vague, disinterested stare. He didn’t laugh, he didn’t cry, he just looked at me in the same slightly puzzled way before turning and falling back to sleep.
he meant. What could they have put on his willy? Over the next few days I worked it out, partly from what Marc told me, partly from what I managed to get out of Martin and Pete. The wardens kept a small generator locked up in the cellar. They had switched it on when they took Marc down there the second time. They showed it to him; let him know it was electric. He knew that electricity and water mixed together could kill you and he started to shake with terror. They laughed at his fear and picked
later discovered that all the other boys, apart from the youngest, had been to the cellars before and they already knew what would happen. We were the toys; toys that came in different sizes, toys for grown men to play with. I heard Christopher give a gasp that was almost a groan as he unrolled his costume. I couldn’t see what it was, only that it looked white and very sparkly. I picked mine up from the floor where I had placed it when I undressed. At first glance it didn’t appear too bad, like
until I get out.’ Marc gave me a look that made words unnecessary, that told me I just didn’t understand. ‘John’s your brother and so’s Davie,’ he said finally. ‘You’re all family.’ He spoke as though that word excluded the rest of the world from being with us. I searched for words to tell him that I thought of him as family but I couldn’t find them. That was the last conversation I ever had with Marc. He wasn’t at supper that evening, and by bedtime boys were whispering to each other,