I wrote this for the investigation a few months ago, but they are omitting my side of things so I am writing this blog instead:
This is written primarily about Lou Scott-Joynt’s involvement in my case, which is missed out of the Korris report as far as I have seen, but this article also goes into the crisis time in my last year in Jersey, this is because Lou Scott-Joynt’s involvement was during that time.
I remember meeting her briefly in 2001 when she was introduced to me as a friend of FM’s who went to a clergy spouses group with him and also a friend of Anne Wiggle’s because they belonged to a singing group called the Wayneflete singers together and last but not least, she was the Bishop’s wife.
She apparently commented, in a way quite typical of her, to FM, that when I was with the M’s I was like a child and when I spoke to her alone I was more grown up.
I met her again shortly after that at a garden party at Wolvsley and she pointedly ignored me. She was with the then Archbishop’s wife. Juliet Montague told me that this was typical of Wolvsley as they were all snobs and were cold to her and her benefice administrator –
(who subsequently left his wife for a girl who worked at the diocesan office, so I also felt cold towards him)
I had no more contact with Lou Scott-Joynt until the spring of 2010 when I was in a desparate state due to the way I had been treated by the church and police in Jersey and contacted Wolvlsey.
I tried to contact Wolvsley during the day and found that I couldn’t speak. So I tried in the evening and was surprised as I had hoped to leave a message on the answer machine but instead the phone was answered by Mrs. Scott-Joynt.
I had wanted to ask the Bishop for help and to ask him to withdraw Jane Fisher.
I put the phone down on that occasion but tried again a few times, after a few times, Lou scott-Joynt said ‘Hello Judith’ when I phoned, I was and am petrified of phones and especially speaking to people I do not know on the phone, partly because my voice is childlike and partly because I still have traces of receptive dysphasia and cannot always understand what is said to me on the phone.
So I ended up speaking to Mrs Scott-Joynt. She asked a lot of questions and we had a long long conversation, she asked lots of questions and talked to me about the nightmares I had among other things, I asked her if normal people had nightmares and she told me that they did and that she had had a bad nightmare just before she and her husband went on holiday.
She asked me a lot about my lifestyle and told me I had to eat properly but neither in that conversation nor following conversations would she accept or acknowledge that I could not always afford to feed myself properly and would tell me to go and eat something even when I had no food and told her so.
Anyway, in that initial long conversation she discovered that I was friends with Anne Wiggle but did not recall meeting me with Anne in 2001.
Lou asked if she and her husband had met me on a flight to Jersey one time and I said no, she said she had thought it was me, a nice lively young church girl, but it wasn’t me, I told her she had met me at ****** and then the garden party at Wolvsley.
I was revising for exams at the time I started to communicate with Lou Scott-Joynt, my exams were Geography and Biology, I was trying to consolidate the education I had missed out on as a child and was inspired by the encouragement I had received in the suicide prevention centre that I checked myself into for Christmas 2009.
Anne Wiggle rang me one evening as I was revising and asked how I was doing and how the revision was going, she chatted about the usual things, her cancer treatment and theatre trips to Chichester and all the village news, then she let me continue my revision.
Then Lou Scott-Joynt phoned me, (note that this was evening, out of office hours and the Bishop and Jane Fisher later had me warned for phoning out of hours even though his wife said I could). Anyway, Lou Scott-Joynt was the second disruption to my revision but I spoke politely to her and told her I was revising and she seemed pleased with that idea. She told me she was phoning because she was going to see Anne when the Wayneflete Singers met, and did I want to pass any messages on? I replied that Anne had just phoned and so all the news was caught up on, and she told me that she would tell Anne that she knew me and that ‘we had a mutual friend’ whatever that means.
I allowed that but was concerned, the church had violated a lot of my boundaries and privacy and I did not want my friendship with Anne violated.
Anyway, nothing bad happened at the time, Lou Scott-Joynt rang off after telling me to go and get some supper, and I fumed because I had no money for supper and she always ignored me when I said that. It was hard or impossible to squash my autistic irritation when she made a habit of saying that and yet would ignore me when I said I had no supper nor money for it, even if I explained repeatedly, and yet I know she meant well, she was a bit of a dizzy lady really.
My situation by then was that I used over half my wages for rent and some money on the car and doctor’s bills and other things including course and exam fees and I had very little money for food and my main meal of the day was sometimes all I had and I had that at work for £1 a day, which was good, but I didn’t always have money for supper, and I talked to Lou Scott-Joynt in the evenings.
Anyway, unbeknown to me, Lou Soctt-Joynt was a relate counsellor and the Bishop and undoubtedly Jane Fisher, had the idea of getting Lou Scott-Joynt to ‘listen to me’, and as usual nothing was explained to me, so I had hoped that Lou Scott-Joynt would act as a mediator and help solve the problems I was having in Jersey by speaking to her husband about the problems I told her. Unfortunately she was given a very much tailored side of things by her husband and/or Jane Fisher and that led to problems.
This started with her saying about having heard about ‘me and the couple in Overton’ and I replied that she didn’t know my side of that so why had someone given her an account of that and who?
She didn’t reply to that but it made me feel ashamed and defeated, Jane Fisher had never asked for my side of that and Phil Warren had already taken his grudge and unforgiveness for his parents-in-law out on me about that, followed by Jane Fisher smashing me down.
Anyway, so that was not good, Lou Scott-Joynt was only being told the bad side of me, by who? Her husband or Jane Fisher, and why? How could anyone help me if I was maligned to them and a picture of me painted that was not the full picture?!
But it got worse.
This is one of the most horrifying and damaging events of the whole thing, and indeed of my life.
I was talking to Lou Scott-Joynt and I asked something like what was being done about my complaint about Bob Key?
She replied ‘oh, what has Bob done?’
I was furious and frustrated, I told her that she should know what he had done, after all she knew about George and Jill from somewhere!
She tried to end the conversation but I needed answers, why was I being maligned to her about George and Jill and yet she didn’t know about my complaint about Bob Key?
I was deeply upset, why was my complaint about Bob key being discarded while I was being treated as bad?!
The whole everything was getting too much for me and this is when and why I went up to the Key’s house, I was at the end of my tether, and yet I did not swear or shout as they claimed in court that I had. I had not been in contact with them for a while as I was waiting for the Bishop to deal with my complaint.
I knocked on the door of the Deanery and asked how and why they could get away with such wickedness in their biased handling of the abuse matter.
The Dean and his wife, with his wife in the lead and the Dean echoing her, told me that I was wicked and that I had not been abused and that the Avertys had only been kind to me and I had not been abused and that I had ‘done the same to the Montagues and Phil Warren’s parents’ , they appeared to make an error and refer to the Lihous as Phil Warren’s Parents, rather than parents-in-law, Phil Warren being the Vicar of St. matthews who had trapped me and shouted at me.
Anyway, I replied that they had done wrong and that their house belonged to the Bishop and he should deal with them and they replied that the Bishop had no power over them and that they had a freehold on the house and that they would call the police if I didn’t go away. I went away, I neither swore nor shouted.
I was deeply shocked, the injustice was neverending by 2010 and I could not go on dealing with it. I knew that Juliet Montague had been in contact with the Dean and the Avertys.
I phoned Juliet and she told me that it was something to do with my family background and that I had a habit of making malicious complaints when I didn’t get what I wanted.
Which wasn’t true, I had not made other complaints. I had not complained about her and Fred until she heavily involved herself in the Jersey matter, on the side of the Keys and the A’s.
I was horrified and rang off.
I rang Lou Scott-Joynt and told her what had happened and told her what had happened about the Keys not handling my compaint properly, but she changed the subject and wanted to know in great detail about who had sexually abused me and when, she went on about my brother abusing me and she asked if he had ‘just fiddled with me’ which sounded disgusting to me and was not what I wanted to talk about, but she said she would tell her husband about the Keys.
I need to note At this point in case I forget at a later time, Lou Scott-Joynt’s involvement in this matter seems to be missed out of the Korris report and she was not named as a witness in anything, it is as if the church have totally blanked out her part in all this, which is hardly surprising, she does have a habit of saying revealing things without meaning to.
I could not sleep that night, it was the last straw for me, and I spoke with Lizzie, my former counsellor in Hampshire, she and I had remained in regular contact since she stopped counselling me and she was a great comfort through some of these terrible happenings.
I also spoke with Sandy Newman, who is my former landlady and was also my friend from the time I was lodging with her to the time I was on the streets in Winchester with the diocese ripping my remaining life apart. Sandy was awake to talk to me in the early hours as she doesn’t sleep much, and she was also very comforting and reassuring and I was in a state of complete collapse so I arranged to stay with Sandy and Roy, even though I had an exam coming up and my work was falling apart due to time off from stress. I was not going to be able to work or do anything after what the Dean and his wife had said, after all my efforts to get my complaint about the Dean and the Avertys dealt with, here was the Dean saying I was not abused and that I only used and hurt people like the Avertys and the Lihous, and he was using this to defend his bad behaviour about my complaint! What happened to my side of the story that no-one, not Jane Fisher, not the Dean or Bishop had asked for, nor was my side known and it was being used against me, as it still currently is!
Anyway, the next morning I phoned the Bishop’s office and spoke to Martyn Sanders, who said that the Bishop was having breakfast, then Lou Scott-Joynt came on the line, I cannot remember what she said, it wasn’t anything unpleasant or significant but she handed the phone over to the Bishop.
I did not know how to address a Bishop so I called him ‘Your Grace’, when in fact I probably should have addressed him as Bishop Michael, but I did not know, which is why I ran away from Bishop Trevor in the church room a few years since, because I did not know how to address him.
A meeting had been suggested to me previously by Joyce Cockell but she had claimed that Jane Fisher and Bob Key would not know about it, this was later rubbished by Tracy leCoutuer who claimed that the idea of a meeting was Jane Fisher’s, and seeing as I had asked to make a formal complaint against Jane Fisher as part of this meeting, why would she set up a meeting unless she was assured she would not face any action against her?
Anyway, I told the Bishop what happened, I told him that this matter could not go on and that I needed to see him face to face, he tried to give me a date that was quite a long way in the future and as this was an emergency I pressed him to see me as soon as possible.
He agreed to see me on Sunday for an hour and a half, which was not really long enough but I needed him to do something about this matter as I couldn’t take any more of this. I was completely mentally shattered.
I flew to England, signing off sick from work, which was not good because my job was by now in jeopardy due to the strain of the church matters and time off sick I kept having.
I stayed with Roy and Sandy, I remember having email conversations with Joyce Cockell, the Bishop’s secretary and telling her about the Lihous and about the Montagues, although my full account of the Montagues has never been heard and in the short time I had I told Joyce about Fred sexually abusing me and probably about Juliet’s attitude about abuse and how she blamed me and still allowed Fred to be alone with me and asked him to drive me to places etc after I had told her about the abuse, and how Juliet described Fred harming his daughter Sally and how Sally also alleged Fred had abused her.
Despite the Bishop having all this information, and during the meeting saying he believed the matter with the Lihous to be forgiven and in the past, and that Fred and Juliet had done wrong and he was sorry, the Lihous and Montagues continue to be used against me.
Anyway. I could only stay with Roy and Sandy for a few days, but I used Sandy’s computer to email the Bishop and Jane Fisher.
I remember when Sandy was out and Roy was doing the hoovering and I said to Joyce that Roy knew I was not a bad person and he wasn’t afraid of being alone with me. Joyce asked if she could speak to Roy but I said that I thought he would be completely baffled by all this and it would only confuse him.
Anyway, I had to leave as Roy and Sandy were going away and their insurance wouldn’t let me stay in the house. I told Jane Fisher that I had to go and I didn’t think I could stay for the meeting with the Bishop.
I could not make any arrangement to stay elsewhere, and Jane Fisher was going on about how she wanted me to go to this meeting, and she did not say what Bob Key said and she did not deny that I had been abused, so I thought maybe she could do something about the Keys, she was being all nice and she wanted me to go to this meeting, and so I withdrew my complaint against her, which I shouldn’t really have done, she has made sure that is loud and clear in the Korris report, with all her bad behaviour omitted.
Anyway, by the time I hadn’t arranged anywhere to stay on that Saturday night and was facing sleeping rough as I missed the last flight back to Jersey, Jane Fisher at first was just repetitively going on about me attending the meeting the next day and wouldn’t take into account that I had nowhere to stay, and then she said she would come and find me and get me to stay somewhere and get me a ticket back home for after the meeting.
I didn’t want to see her at all.
But I met her and she took me to a place called Premier Inn, which was by Southampton Airport.
She had to give the check in people all her details and pay by card and she was very flustered indeed to be giving out her personal details with me there and so I moved right away from her and went to play with the vending machines and laughed at her.
Anyway, she successfully booked a room for me and I was not happy with this woman who had damaged me so much ‘helping’ me, but anyway, she went up to the room with me, she didn’t seem to know how to use a swipe card so I showed her and was baffled that someone like her could not use a swipe card when someone like me can.
We went into the room she had booked for me and I busily made sure I knew what everything was, because that is how I deal with unfamiliar places, while Jane Fisher was doing something with her phone and a bit of paper.
I showed her the Gideon Bible that I found in the cupboard.
Jane Fisher kept on and on about the meeting, she kept saying ‘you will go, wont you?’ she was being a steamroller like she always has and always does. I had asked for the meeting and was going to it, but she told me that if I didn’t go then I wouldn’t get a ticket home because she would send the ticket to Lou Scott-Joynt and Lou would give the ticket to me when I went to the meeting and I wouldn’t get the ticket if I didn’t go.
Anyway, Jane Fisher then phoned me about booking the ticket and was insistent that she needed my address in order to book the ticket and I insisted that there was no way I was giving her my address after the way she had treated me, no way!
She kept on, and I told her to use her own address or another address as I was not booking the ticket nor was I prepared to put myself at further risk from the church of England.
She kept on insisting. And claimed that she would not take note of my address or keep a note of it, I knew very well that she was lying and that she was a liar.
In the end I gave her my OLD ADDRESS.
Anyway, I went to the meeting, Jane Fisher told me that Lou Scott-Joynt would pick me up from the station and would be driving a gold Skoda. I told Jane Fisher that I remembered Lou and did she still have black hair? That made Jane Fisher splutter, and I realised that Lou Scott-Joynt also dyed her hair like Jane Fisher does, and I was puzzled, if people love God, why do they need to fake things?
Anyway, Lou came to pick me up and she seemed surprised about me, she always seemed surprised about me, I knew what she looked like so I was not surprised, only her hair was grey.
We drove back to Wolvsley, and we talked, she seemed surprised by everything I said, I told her I had been at my friend Janis’s house and Janis had been praying about the meeting, and I told her that if I had been in Jersey I would have been taking part in a charity walk and picnic in aid of the rescue centre that I did dog walking for. She seemed surprised by it all and she said I seemed to ‘do a lot of good works’ but I didn’t feel like someone who ‘did a lot of good works’, I felt like someone condemned and with no future, and I was right.
Anyway. I followed Lou into the house but the Bishop was standing in the door of his study, he was big and tall and blocked the doorway and I cringed back and I didn’t dare to pass him, he seemed very unfriendly and he said to his wife ‘lead Judith into the room’ as if I was an animal.
He continued this attitude once I was in the room by telling his wife to take away a plant that wouldn’t flower, he was kind of very autocratic, and then he changed a bit.
There was a woman there who I didn’t know. He introduced her and he and Lou said that she was a friend of Anne Wiggle’s. But they didn’t say what the Korris report said, that she was a relate counsellor and therefore a colleague of Lou Scott-Joynt’s as she worked for relate! I think the Korris report should have been aware of the connections.
The Bishop led the meeting, he had provided toys for me as Jane Fisher had told him that would help, he also provided pens and paper so that I could draw.
The meeting consisted of the Bishop asking me questions and me answering as best I could, I didn’t raise my voice at any point, nor was I unreasonable, and yet the Bishop, who led all topics, apparently expressed his ‘disappointment’ about the meeting.
At the beginning of the meeting he started by talking about the toy lion that I cuddled and said it looked like a friendly lion, and he said the hedgehogs I drew looked soft and friendly.
The Bishop told me he believed me about Robb Averty and Fred Montague abusing me and he was sorry.
I accepted that, and I told him about what Juliet had said about the abuse and how she had blamed me and he said that she was wrong and he would deal with that at some point.
I spoke about how the Dean and his wife had called me wicked and how they were using the Montagues and Lihous against me, I told him about the Lihous and he said that he believed me that it was forgiven and forgotten.
The whole meeting remained calm and orderly and the woman who the Bishop had as a witness stayed quietly in the corner taking notes, Lou scott-Joynt was not present at the meeting and the Bishop said this was because he didn’t want the meeting to ‘prevent my access to her’ I am not entirely sure what this meant but I gather that he felt the meeting would give her a different view of things or upset my relationship with her that I had with her by phone.
The Bishop said he believed that my relationship with the Lihous was forgiven and over, then he said something about how he thought I still believed in God, and he commended Tracy and St. Clements to me, he would not accept that due to Jane Fisher’s intervention and the Dean knowing I was there and the grapevine obviously upsetting my relationship with St. Clements, I would not go back there. Especially because of Jane Fisher and Tracy.
The Bishop asked about how the police had treated me and I told him that the poliuce had been brutal and unclear with me and I remained in fear and unaware of what any of the police handling of me meant.
He then asked about my complaint about Jane Fisher and I told him I had withdrawn it at the moment, this is because Jane Fisher was being ‘all helpful’ and had not told me I was not abused and was wicked, she had not done what the Dean did and so I wanted her to do something about the Dean and the Avertys and she wouldn’t do that if I had a complaint against her.
I told the Bishop about the Dean and his wife and told him again, he was too vague about it but he said he would ‘speak to them about it’ which reinforced them saying that the Bishop could do nothing to them.
The Bishop said that Robb Averty was being supervised by Mike Taylor and Paul Brooks, and I thought there was no point in that whatsoever, I cannot remember if I expressed this aloud but the Bishop did not seem interested in my complaints about Paul Brooks, the Harkins or any of that. Paul Brooks was a friend of the Avertys who was on the Evangelical alliance with them, he was chosen as vicar of St. Pauls by Robb Averty who was on the selection panel even after Robb’s sacking from St. Pauls.
The Bishop said that Robb had been ’removed from all pastoral positions’, but he didn’t explain to me what that meant, he expressed his concern that Robb was not responding properly to being removed from authority and was still trying to carry out roles in the church, (which was hardly surprising with everyone especially the Dean claiming that Robb was innocent and supporting him, while Jane Fisher tried to tell me that this was not the case).
The Bishop said that he might have to deal with Robb himself, (which seemed an unlikely situation, that never happened as far as I know).
The Bishop said that he would meet me again in Jersey in about six weeks time if I liked, and as the meeting had not resolved much, I said I did want to meet with him again, and he brushed that aside and said his secretary would contact me about it, which never happened.
The meeting didn’t solve much, and certainly didn’t take away the situation with the Keys condemning me, and I was now in a bad way and there was no way that things would simply come right by now.
After the meeting, Lou scott-Joynt came in and was looking apprehensive as if she thought something terrible had happened but we were simply sitting there calmly.
She and the Bishop started talking quietly in the doorway and the lady who had been a witness said to me something like ‘I am sorry, you seem to have been through some tough times’ and I wasn’t sure what to say, so I thanked her for being there and taking notes.
Then Lou Scott-Joynt took me back to the station and she said she wanted to make sure I did go in the station and get the train, and I was puzzled as to why, when I had to get back to Jersey and back to work.
Lou said she was worried about me as I was suffering and did I talk to the Samaritans? I think she worked for them as well or was a patron, I told her that I did talk to the Samaritans. She seemed relieved at that.
She asked if she could touch me as she knew I didn’t like it but she wanted to reach out to me, I said she could, I cant remember if she held my hand or patted my shoulder or hugged me, but we agreed on something she could do.
I told her that her husband didn’t seem willing to take the matter of the Keys seriously enough and she told me that I needed to keep on at him and she would speak to him about it.
She left me and I went to get the train and realised that my phone was missing, I had left it at Wolvsley and I knew that the Bishop and Lou were due to go out to a function as soon as I had gone, hence the shortness of the meeting I had had.
I hurried back to Wolvsley and thankfully they were still there, I got my phone and headed back to the station, Jane Fisher kept ringing and texting and wanting to know about the meeting but she wouldn’t let up and I asked her why she couldn’t ask the Bishop about the meeting and she said it was because it was a private meeting, well why was she forcing the details out of me then?
I went to the station and looked at the printed e-ticket that Lou scott-Joynt had given me for the plane and I was furious by what Jane Fisher had written in an email to Lou Scott-Joynt that was actually on the bottom of the ticket.
I was so angry that I didn’t even want to get the train, and by now the Scott-Joynts had gone out and so I couldn’t speak to them about it.
Jane Fisher had written something derogatory to Lou Scott-Joynt about making sure her (Jane Fisher) personal details were not on the ticket and also making sure that Lou’s email address was not on the ticket or illegible, she said ‘so you don’t get added to the email list’ – obviously referring to my copying of emails to a number of people during the time I was trying to get the diocese to deal with my complaint and deal with Jane Fisher, it was all just a joke to her.
I was furious.
I left messages with both Jane Fisher and Wolvsley about that, I did go and get the train and the plane though, because I still had work and a home in Jersey even though I was suffering terribly there because of the Dean and church.
Immediately on my return to Jersey I had Jane Fisher badgering me, uncharacteristically interested in whether or not I had returned to Jersey.
I had and I was not pleased with her. I told her and Joyce so. Joyce agreed that Jane had been a prat.
I can’t remember any conversations with Lou scott-Joynt at this point, but I was exhausted and nothing was clear and nothing had been resolved.
Once the meeting was out of the way, Jane Fisher seemed to have leave to power up and start harming me again. I was glad I never gave her my address but only my old address. Obviously the meeting had not been about resolving my complaints but more about meeting diocesan safeguarding requirements, they are kind of obliged to apologize to alleged abuse victims even if they don’t mean it, and as for the rest of my complaint, nothing was being done but instead Jane Fisher was freed to relaunch her efforts against me, I should have head steady with my complaint against her but I had been in a bad way and needed her to deal with the Keys and she did not say I hadn’t been abused. But I doubt that the Bishop would have bothered with my complaint any more than he really bothered with my other complaints.
Jane fisher started really messing me about, she had previously said she would come and see me when she was back in Jersey and then she was making excuses, she came to Jersey and would not meet with me and was making excuses and lying, just silly lies like not answering her phone and then when I phoned Wolvlsey to ask why I was being messed about, Joyce said that Jane was on the phone to someone else in the office, and then Jane Sent me a message saying she couldn’t phone me because she had no signal. I did not understand why she was messing me about, and I was annoyed.
Then all of a sudden Jane Fisher wanted to meet me at a garden centre that I could not get to, it was in the same parish where I worked and was between where I worked and where I used to live, but firstly she wanted to meet me within working hours, and seeing as I had already lost a lot of work time due to the church of England, it was not possible to finish early, in fact I was working late, the extra expenses and loss of wages meant my car had no petrol and I was walking everywhere and could not walk all the way up to the garden centre, especially as my legs were increasingly troublesome, I could not get to Jane Fisher and she was cold and rude about it and said ‘I assume you are refusing to meet with me’ or something, which is the real Jane Fisher and not the fake caring one who appeared because of Tracy LeCoutuer.
Apparently Jane Fisher was trying to ‘put me under guidelines’ and the Korris report tries to link this attempt to me emailing a lot of people copies of my emails to Jane Fisher, though at the time the only people I was emailing about church matters were Jane Fisher, the Bishop, and Bishop’s staff, who at the time I was allowed to speak to, as you will see from emails I have included in my evidence.
I did not know about these ‘guidelines’ I was only told about ‘a letter that Jane Fisher wanted to give me’, I was then bombarded by emails from Jane Fisher, Joyce and Tracy about this letter, which they tried to force me to read.
I asked again for Jane Fisher to be withdrawn from the matter, and I asked and asked.
The ‘letter’, the ‘guidelines’ were supposed to ‘help’ me, and were previously described as ‘Jane Fisher and the Bishop looking at ways to help me’, but unfortunately trying to force on me while not dealing with my complaint, and allowing the matter to become ever more serious, was not helping me in any way.
So I did not read this letter that the Bishop’s office and Jane Fisher tried to force on me, I wanted Jane Fisher withdrawn and I wanted my complaint dealt with and I was very ill.
But I missed my friend Tracy.
So I went to see Tracy.
Tracy was hostile. It was different from just her not allowing me in her house as she had stopped doing that when Jane Fisher had become involved, and one of the reasons my friendship with Tracy broke was because before Jane Fisher, Tracy used to invite me round and invite me in. Once Jane Fisher got involved, Tracy was obviously informed that she wasn’t allowed to invite me in, because a Diocese of Winchester policy which is kept secret from all vulnerable and disabled people is that they are not welcome in clergy houses, this policy is only told to clergy, not vulnerable people, so basically a clergy person can have a peadophile to tea but not a disabled person, the policy is to protect the church and has no thought whatsoever for the feelings of the excluded vulnerable person, and the same policy means no one is allowed to be alone with a disabled person, so disabled people are left feeling shunned and rejected, but as long as the clergy cover their backs, the feelings of the disabled or vulnerable person to whom this policy is not explained when they are rejected, does not matter. This is the church of England through and through.
Anyway, I went to Tracy’s house that afternoon, maybe between three and four-thirty pm, I was already aware that she would not let me in her house, and this had been the case as soon as Jane Fisher was involved but before Jane Fisher’s involvement ripped my friendship with Tracy apart.
Tracy answered the door and I asked her if we could be friends and with Jane Fisher not involved.
Writing this is so hard for me it makes me break up and want to run.
Tracy claimed that Jane Fisher had not done anything and that I was not being laughed at by Robb Averty when he saw me, which I was, but Tracy tried to tell me that this was part of my mental illness, I asked her what mental illness? She said I was ill and needed help, I asked her what help I needed? I was under my doctor and being treated for depression and distress. (which wasn’t helping much as I was reacting badly to antii-depressants).
I told Tracy that my suffering was very real, that I was already being rejected by people in St. Clements due to the grapevine, and she tried to tell me that wasn’t the case, you cannot tell someone that what they are experiencing is not real but Tracy tried to, just as Jane Fisher had done in the past.
I told Tracy that what was happening was wrong, and that I had been called wicked by the Keys and told I was not abused and why were the Diocese using Tracy to hurt me while denying what was happening to me.
Tracy said that she didn’t know what had happened when I went to the Keys house late at night. The way she said it was horrible, it definitely implied that she was blaming me for going there, she had obviously been in touch with the diocese and she said as much.
I knew from that that my complaint was not being taken seriously.
I asked her why she was prepared to speak against me for the Dean and Jane Fisher in this way (and by the way, in my three weeks in England Jane Fisher said almost exactly the same words as Tracy ‘I don’t know what the Dean said when you went to his house).
Basically they made it a crime that I went to the Dean’s house, never mind what he said and how he had been biased and damaging me with his bias.
Anyway, Tracy was awful, she was acting on behalf of the Diocese of Winchester, she told me I would be in trouble if I kept contacting them. And I told her that they hadn’t dealt with my complaints properly and that I wanted Jane Fisher withdrawn and that Jane Fisher shouldn’t be using her against me as she was my friend before then.
Tracy said that I was to ‘read the letter’ that I had been given and I said there was no letter, I was not reading a letter and I wanted my complaint dealt with.
Tracy went on, even saying that the Diocese could send the letter to where I worked, I was fuming, there was nothing that the Diocese would not violate, my friendships, my church worship, my work, my home if they could find it, and again I was glad that I only gave Jane Fisher my old address! I wonder if she tried to send the letter there!
Anyway Tracy went on about the Diocese having the police on me for writing to me and I was horrified, what kind of inhumane brutes were these people, the Bishop and Fisher, to refuse to deal with my complaint, leave Key calling me wicked on evidence he had no right to use and on behalf of the Avertys, and leave me suffering and have police action on me for it! I was utterly horrified, but Tracy went on and on, cold and hostile and pressing the mental illness, and despite the Korris report glossing over it, Tracy and jane Fisher and the Bishop were trying to make me out to be suffering paranoia/schitzophrenia or delusions, serious mental illness, which I was not, I was mad with distress.
Anway, I told Tracy that I couldn’t go on living with all this and that she needed to stop being in contact with Jane Fisher about me and stop being used as Fisher’s mouthpiece.
Tracy told me she wouldn’t and that she was going indoors to phone Jane Fisher.
I left and I decided to leave the Island before the Diocese could launch a police attack.
I went home and was unsure what to do. I was going to pack some things, and I told my landlady that I was going away for a few days and that my friend Anne was in hospital, which was true. She was in because her kidneys didn’t work any more and dialysis was also not always working.
I was unsure what exactly I would do after a few days. But as I packed, the police turned up on the doorstep.
The police told me they had been called by Tracy LeCoutuer who said I was suicidal, I told the police that Jane Fisher had put Tracy up to this and was being malicious. I told them I had said to Tracy that I did not know how to live with how the church had been treating me.
I also told the police that my landlady, Andrea had seen them and my home was now in potential danger. The policewoman told me to lie and tell my landlady that they had come to see me because I was a witness to something. Even though I knew Jersey police were not very honest, I was worried about doing this.
The police asked if I was ‘going to do anything stupid’ and I replied no, because they meant suicide, not fleeing Jersey.
And the police went away, somehow they had not taken Jane Fisher and Tracy LeCoutuer’s attempt to have me locked up very seriously. And considering that brutal police attack and imprisonment I had suffered directly after the results of the investigation into Robb Averty, I was absolutely astonished, the police had simply gone away again this time, I was not brutalized and locked in.
I was shaking and shaking and terrified and I knew I had to get to the ferry before they changed their mind or the next lot came. I told my landlady what the police told me to say, but this was later revealed to her as a lie during further police action.
I took some clothes and things with me and went in my car down to the ferry port. The car was in need of repair and increasingly so, due to my circumstances it had not yet been repaired and the exhaust was producing white smoke, I was due to repair it from my next lot of salary, but circumstances meant it never got repaired.
I got the ferry. I remember nothing about the journey, I was numb and lost.
Neither the incident with Tracy nor my three weeks in England appears to be in the Korris report.
I spent 3 weeks in England and it remains a very confused memory as the trauma was so great, it was also a taste of the life that was to come, homeless in England with the church of England driving me mad.
I was at Roy and Sandy’s house at first, I did email Jane Fisher and Tracy and the Bishop, I wanted the nightmare to end.
Tracy sent emails back with the subject boxes making my distress and fleeing Jersey out to be me being upset about Anne Wiggle’s illness, and this horrified me, she had just set the police on me and I had fled Jersey after listening to her attack me in defence of Jane Fisher and the Dean and church and she was making out it was just about me being distressed about Anne.
She said something like ‘Lou is praying for Anne’ etc, and again my private life was being invaded by the Diocese and their excuses.
Roy and Sandy were going away, again, as they went on frequent holidays, or possibly they were going to Cornwall to look after a friend and her husband, the friend was disabled and the husband was dying, and they often went to see them or the friend came up to Winchester for respite.
So once Roy and Sandy went, I had nowhere to go, I cannot remember as I write this if I asked any other friends if I could stay, but most were not in a position to have me to stay for various reasons and I hate to ask friends if I can stay.
I may or may not have stayed briefly with other friends but I was then sleeping in my car. I was not used to rough sleeping and sleeping in a car is very cold anyway as cars are metal and metal is cold during the night.
I spoke to Lou Scott-Joynt on the phone as I used to and had not been told not to, I told her about what happened and she told me to come to Wolvsley and they would give me a bed for the night, it was always surprising how very real and caring she could be, but I could imagine Jane Fisher’s reaction if I was to go and stay at Wolvsley, breaking diocesan rules by going into a clergy house when I am a profane disabled person, I did not like the thought of being in the house with the cold unfriendly Bishop, who, I gathered, would again refuse my complaint against the Keys, and refuse to help.
And worst of all, I was afraid that the minute I went to Wolvsley I would be set upon by the police or mental health services.
I told Lou scott-Joynt about the Keys calling me wicked and saying I had not been abused, she said she believed me.
Well if she believed me then why was nothing ever done? Why was I being criminalised and driven mad? Why was my complaint not being dealt with.
Lou Scott-Joynt was going to hand the phone to the Bishop, and in the background he said no, and she then said ‘oh. He’s gone to bed’ even though he had not.
Anyway, I didn’t stay at Wolvsley, and in the end Lou Scott-Joynt was going on about me phoning and emailing… but I wanted my complaint dealt with. And if it had been then I wouldn’t have phoned or emailed, and if I had been treated properly then I wouldn’t be on the streets
I remained living in my car, I went to see Anne in hospital.
I was suicidal and planning on killing myself.
Most of things were in Jersey and I was on the mainland condemned as wicked by the Dean of Jersey, things were bad.
I headed down to near the hospital where Anne was and also my childhood home. I was going to kill myself and I wanted to die where my heart was.
Anne texted me from hospital, she asked me to come and see her.
I wonder if again this was interference from the Diocese of Winchester.
I agreed to see Anne the next evening I think.
In the meantime I went into a church service, not a church of England church, and was as panicky as usual about being in a church.
The church people tolerated my panic and some of them came to my rescue. By now I had almost no money, my phone was dead and I had no credit and was hungry.
Some of the church people asked me about my circumstances and took me for a meal, they made arrangements to put me in a bed and breakfast for a few nights and I was happy about that, they invited me to their Bible group and I found it helpful, it was refreshingly real and Christian after all the awfulness of the churches in Jersey.
I spent a few days resting, exhausted. My phone was out of credit and I wasn’t online.
When I logged on to the library computers I was told by Joyce that I had been reported missing by Jane Fisher.
Jane Fisher had not during this time tried to phone me, text me or email me, she had reported me missing for some inexplicable reason even though I was in touch with various friends and family and had been to see Anne Wiggle in hospital. It was claimed that she reported me missing because I was not in contact with her at the same time as her making a complaint about me to the police for making contact with the Diocese. This remains unexplained to me, why report me for making contact while reporting me for not making contact?
But it seemed that at the reporting me missing was taken seriously and the police turned up at my lodgings in Jersey, obviously the lie the police had made me tell before about ‘being a witness’ was known as a lie by my landlady, and the police apparently asked her if she felt I was dangerous and if she was scared of me, which remains an outrageous and inexplicable misconduct to this day.
You cannot imagine what it was like to go through all this. I couldn’t go on living with it.
I asked Jane Fisher by text what on earth was going on, why I was reported for not being in contact at the same time as she reported me for being in contact.
She didn’t answer that, but when I was told that the Dean had also made a complaint, I queried why the Diocese and Dean had made a complaint at the same time when I had not been in contact with the Dean since he and his wife called me wicked when I went to their house.
Jane Fisher’s reply was ‘I don’t know what was said when you went to the Dean’s house’ or similar, and again this was not an answer to my complaint.
But I noted that the Diocese and Dean apparently made a complaint at the same time, and this is also what happened when they all had me arrested.
Instead of my complaint being dealt with, the Dean and Bishop and Jane Fisher were working together against me, this is despite the fact I had made no contact at all with the Dean since he called me wicked, I had been waiting until my complaint was dealt with by the Bishop, and it obviously from this police action, wasn’t being.
The police were very unclear indeed what was going on, this was Jersey police, and I was left in distress and despair and didn’t return to Jersey as I had been planning to, instead, after a distressing conversation with the police I left the ferry port and the ticket I had paid for with help from the churcb people, and I headed back into Hampshire.
I now had no money left and was in severe despair, but the police officer had said that if I didn’t return to Jersey then they couldn’t do anything to me. So I stayed in Hampshire.
I went to the hardware store and got rat poison and weed killer and something else, possibly ant killer.
I felt terrible, because of everything that happened but also because suicide, killing myself, seemed unnatural, even though I had nothing to live for.
I went down to my childhood home, the place I had been happiest.
I was intending to kill myself because I was not able to come to terms with what the Dean had said and the way the Diocese was treating me, which was backing up what the Dean said.
I wrote a suicide note explaining why I wanted to die, but this was omitted from the report done by the hospital later.
I phoned Jane Fisher and left a message, probably something to the effect that I couldn’t live with what had happened.
I also tried to phone Mike and Shirley Lupton, my friends, but Mike can be fierce and it was the early hours of the morning by then.
I left my things in the car. Including the suicide note.
The suicide note was not readable from the outside of the car but it was later claimed that it was. It is incredible just how much the police can lie.
I walked down to the shore and I put my laptop and phone in the water, I am not entirely sure why but I wanted the angry emails to go away and die too I think.
I walked up the meadow and found a place in the meadow to sit.
I was hurting so much inside from what had been said by the Dean and the injustice of him bringing George and Jill and the Montagues into things and leaving me permanently branded and unforgiven.
I felt like the worst human being alive and my future was only hopeless, police records, being treated badly in Jersey or being left homeless and destitute in England. I knew that I would be unlikely to keep my home or job much longer as I could hardly afford my home and I kept having time off work and was unlikely to keep my job, especially if the church kept setting the police after me, as I was supposed to have clean record in order to work where I worked, as it was a retirement and care home and they were not allowed to employ someone with a police record.
I could see no future either way, because trying to claim benefits in England would be a horrible impossible process that even if it succeeded, I would not get enough money to live on, especially not as I had been away in Jersey, and I would not be able to explain myself to the Benefits agency anyway.
There was no future for me when I decided to kill myself, it was despair and not mental illness that led to the suicide attempt.
I sat in the meadow and I mixed the rat poison and weed killer and whatever else it was I got and I also took all my herbal sleeping tablets out of their packets, I had used herbal sleep remedies to try and get through the insomnia after my dad’s death.
I had decided that, as rat poison was a very nasty way to die, if I could stay asleep through it then that would be better.
I took some herbal sleep tablets, I started to drink the rat poison/weed killer mix. The mixture was very very bitter and hard to drink, it mixed up as a sickly green mixture.
I had put it in a jug.
I was sick every time I drank it, so very little went down, but I have a feeling that this is how my oesophagus got damaged and became a problem later on, rat poison is very very acidic.
I became sleepy. I started having flashbacks to my childhood, and my Dad was there, telling me that I had to live through the horror, just as I had lived through the horrors of Coalville and Beaumont Leys, I was back in Coalville in my mind, I was like a child again, and my dad was there with me.
I slept. I didn’t die.
I have wished ever since that I did die, and in some ways it would certainly have been better if I had died.
A small plane or helicopter went overhead. I was later told that this was a spotter plane trying to locate me. This is what I meant when I asked Jane Fisher in a later email when I was homeless if the helicopter and police car were to do with her, because I was afraid that she was reporting me missing and trying to have me traced again. Just so you understand it was nothing to do with paranoid delusions.
I don’t know what time it was but I heard some people shouting, they had found my laptop in the water when the tide went out.
Then there were police and paramedics coming towards me and thankfully they didn’t grab me or hurt me.
They asked my name and they asked if I was alright, they picked up the sleeping pills and jug of poison and they asked if I had taken anything.
They did not take hold of me but one of them asked they could stand next to me.
They took me to an ambulance.
In the ambulance I was asked questions by the paramedic and I answered coherently. I was asked if I had taken any of the chemicals I had with me, but because I had no wish to be examined or kept in, I denied taking anything. I didn’t feel very ill anyway and I had sicked most of it up and slept off the sleeping tabs.
The paramedic noted that my blood pressure was too high (It always is, but nothing has ever been done about it and nothing will be done until it kills me at this rate).
I was taken to hospital, the same hospital that my friend Anne Wiggle was still in, only she was in the renal unit and I was in A&E.
The paramedics and police had got the message that I was on the autistic spectrum and they didn’t touch me or do anything scary, they explained A&E to me and let me go outside or in the doorway as long as a police officer was with me, as I was panicking.
I was assessed, fairly soon.
I saw a psychiatric nurse, I think, I explained in detail about my Dad’s death, as he was on my mind, and I told the nurse about the Dean of Jersey and Jane Fisher and the Bishop and the Avertys and how the Avertys regressed and abused me and made me feel like rubbish. The nurse did a standard assessment for mental illness and said that I was not mentally ill and so she didn’t want to admit me to hospital but she was concerned that I was extremely vulnerable and upset and so she was worried about letting me go.
Two police officers had stayed around and she went to speak to them and to her manager.
Well this is where things went very wrong in terms of misinformation.
The police, who were Hampshire Constabulary, contacted Jersey Police.
For some very odd reason, Jersey Police completely misinformed them, and to this day I do not understand quite why, but this has made me so upset, frustrated and traumatized that it has been hard to think about, let alone write.
Hampshire police were helpful and polite to me and I appreciate it. They had let me wander round a room and turn the switches on and off while I waited for the psychiatric nurse and police officer to finish their meeting.
The police then told me that I had no criminal record and that I was wanted in Jersey to be spoken to, not arrested, for suspected criminal damage, they did not say to whom, or how, I had no understanding of what that was about but on top of all the confusing things about the police wanting to speak to me for Bob Key and then the police wanting to speak to me for the Diocese, I was now more bewildered and upset than ever and the police were dismayed to have upset me, but it remained a mystery as to why I was suddenly wanted for criminal damage and who was supposed to have reported me, and it still remains a mystery. Especially as it turned out not to apparently be true, so I was none the wiser about who was setting the police on me for what and I was deeply upset.
Anyway, the psychiatric nurse came back and said they weren’t keeping me in as I was not mentally ill but could I go to a friend’s house?
Shirley Lupton was phoned and agreed to have me to stay -bless her heart.
I was taken by the police up to the top floor where Anne Wiggle was in the renal unit, she made a fuss of me but she was very weak, she got me to kiss her but I don’t do kisses and she did this every time I came to see her and it always embarrassed me.
The police drove me to Shirley’s house, they continued to be nice to me and they told me that if I ever felt bad again I should come to them rather than attempting suicide.
I was sure I would never deliberately walk into captivity if I wanted to die.
I was dropped off at Shirley’s house and she put the kettle on.
I think Shirley was very shocked about the whole situation and did not really understand how things were for me from what was being said.
My car remained where I had left it, and Shirley was concerned about my car as not only was it isolated but it had some money in the glove compartment, money that Ray Wiggle had given me to get a ticket back to Jersey.
Shirley phoned the police and asked them to keep an eye on my car, and they said they would.
Shirley asked me if I was relieved to still be alive, and my reply was ‘no, not really, it would have been better if I had died’.
At some point in all of this, possibly at the hospital, the police had said I had been traced because ‘a passer by had looked in my car window and seen the suicide note’, this could not possibly be true because no one would have got close to my car and looked in the window unless they had bad motives, as the car was parked in solitude away from the road, and the suicide note definitely was not readable from the road.
I do not know what happened to the suicide note, whether it was the police or hospital who took it.
But what I do know is that I was later told by Jersey police that Jane Fisher called the police about me in response to my message.
So Jane Fisher’s involvement was attempted to be wiped off record but it didn’t quite happen.
And again in the report done at the hospital, the report stated that I was not mentally ill, but then it went on to complete inaccuracy that made me angry and upset for a long time, the report went on to say that my suicide attempt was partially to do with grief about my dad who according to the report ‘I was close to’, this is despite me telling the nurse I was not close to my Dad but was horrified by his preventable and horrible death.
The report went on to totally omit what I told them about Jane Fisher, the Bishop and Bob Key, and did mention the Avertys but only on the terms that Jersey police had got across on the phone, which included claiming I was fixated on the Avertys.
I was furious, the Diocese of Winchester had managed again to exonorate themselves from the harm they were doing me when it came to records, even to the point of somehow excluding their and the Dean’s actions against me that was leaving me suicidal.
It was nearly a year before I could read the report again and write an amendment, by which time I was homeless on the streets of Winchester and suffering helplessly.
But I did write an amendment, which is with the hospital report, wherever it is stored, and so, Jane Fisher and the Diocese did not manage to exonorate themselves and they are aware of that. I had contacted the hospital immediately after reading the report and was told by a manager that the report was a legal document and couldn’t be changed, but that I could write an amendment to go with the report, and so I did.
Anyway, I stayed with Shirley Lupton for a few days and she appeared to be very concerned about me and very unsure about things and I was ashamed and embarrassed that she saw me in this wrecked state and ‘in police trouble’ although what police trouble I was in remained a mystery.
Anyway, this upset my friendship with Shirley and Mike and had Shirley worried, I overheard her telling her sister that out of her and Mike one of them believed my suicide attempt was genuine and one was not so sure, I cannot remember which was which.
I begged the Diocese of Winchester to stop hurting me and setting the police on me.
I asked them to speak to me and explain, but when Martyn Sanders tried to phone me I could not speak to him.
I could not stay at Mike And Shirley’s house forever and though I knew that Anne was likely to die and I was going to have to deal with some still baffling police intervention if I returned to Jersey, I still had a job and a home there, but only just. So I was going to go back to Jersey.
I had to leave Mike and Shirley’s, either they were going away or had other people staying or something else, they were busy people just as Roy and Sandy were.
I went to get my car.
The car was in a bad way and I tried to get it repaired at a garage near where I had left it, they did some work on it and said it was fine, but it wasn’t.
With some help from the church people who had helped me out before, I managed to get an overdraft to pay my rent in Jersey which was due by direct debit. And I also emailed my employers in Jersey who were bewildered and didn’t know what was going on, and so I had a job to go back to if I got back promptly.
The car broke down irreparably.
I was stranded with a car full of posessions, the car also had the sails and sheets for my little boat in it.
I was in real difficulties.
The car had broken down outside a car repair workshop, which was astounding, but the mechanics looked at the car and said it was not worth repairing.
I offered it to the garage for scrap if I could wait there until someone could rescue me and my posessions.
Shirley and Mike came and collected me and my possesions and I left the car and it’s paperwork with the mechanics for scrap. That was the last time I owned a car or drove.
I was now without my car and computer.
Shirley and Mike put everything, including my boat sails and sheets in their garage.
I am grateful to them for it.
I was now obviously not going to catch the ferry with the car, so the sensible thing to do was to get the train to Southampton airport and fly back to Jersey from there.
Mike Lupton booked my ticket online with his credit card and in return I gave him the money that Ray Wiggle had given me for my fare.
I think it was now August 2010? When I arrived back in Jersey and had to get a very crowded bus back towards my home.
I was in a mess.
I was now isolated, I lived down a long road and in order to get anywhere it was a long walk up the road, I was in overdraft on my bank and had no car and no computer and so I was very isolated.
There was no way now that I could return to college and exams as trying to get across the island to college as well as working was not going to be possible.
I had no computer and so my main link with my friends and the outside world was gone, all I had was a faulty DVD player and a tv with only four channels, so I was kind of stuck, a lot of my posessions were at Mike and Shirley’s house in England and I had burned some of my things a while back as I was not sure how I was going to get out of this worsening situation.
So, I had very little to do at the house, I had no transport, the buses were awful and with all the walking I was doing I noticed I was having real difficulties with my walking but didn’t know why.
I got a letter from the college saying that I had passed my exams with grade B for both, though one grade B was in brackets because I missed an exam due to being called wicked by the Dean and breaking down and missing the exam.
My landlady was very kind and let me come back and despite initially being unsure about me staying on because of the police, she let me stay.
My employers also kept me, although my poor line manager was really bewildered and unhappy about the whole situation.
But because of everything that had happened, I now had no life outside of work, I could walk to work, it was about 15 minutes walk from where I lived, but I couldn’t go sailing any more, I couldn’t study, I couldn’t go to church, my life was wiped out by the loss of the car and computer and how isolated and dependent on expensive and infrequent buses and my increasing inability to walk very far.
I continued to go to the police to ask for clarification, but I really understood nothing much, but they did tell me that it was Jane Fisher who called the police about my suicide attempt, but added something about ‘because I didn’t turn up at the ferry’
Which made no sense to me, because it was never Jane Fisher’s business what ferry I was taking anywhere’ and I wondered if they had confused it with the time she reported me missing when I wasn’t.
Life was awful, I could do nothing, I could not study, I could not sail.
I wondered why God had kept me alive in such a meaningless hell.
It was like a limbo, with no purpose and no hope of purpose returning.
And then there was this police action that I still didn’t understand but gathered it was to do with the Dean.
I have described this police interview elsewhere but will again:
I went with a woman from Victim Support, to meet with police officer smith 333,
I was told that this interview was about Jane Fisher and the Bishop not the Dean, the police officer said that the Bishop was making a complaint through Jane Fisher, and that the complaint was about me emailing and phoning outside of office hours, I protested and explained about the Bishop’s wife and how she only answered the phone outside of office hours and that is when I was supposed to phone and she had phoned me outside of office hours as had Jane Fisher, and Jane Fisher and the Bishop also emailed me outside of office hours and emails are picked up when the recepient picks them up.
The police officer said that this was what this was about and that it was about him filling in an ‘allegation of harrasment form’ and getting both sides of things.
He also said something about me making silent calls, I explained that when I phoned to speak to the Bishop’s wife, if the Bishop answered I would put the phone down as he was so cold and unhelpful.
Since the Bishop and Jane Fisher had set up the situation where I phoned to speak to the Bishop’s wife, and I had not been told this was wrong and the Bishop’s wife had encouraged me to phone ‘anytime’ but she mentioned a time in the morning when she was in the chapel and could only hear the phone and not answer it and told me that I would only get the answer machine then. She said that evenings were best.
I explained all of this to PC 333.
He said that this was about getting both sides of things, and when I mentioned about the Dean he said that he didn’t know about that and that this was about the Bishop and Jane Fisher and that maybe the Dean’s complaint was withdrawn and what the Dean did was probably ‘swept under the carpet’, and that the Dean answered to the Bishop and the Bishop answered to the Archbishop and the Archbishop probably answered to the Queen.
I didn’t fully understand this.
He then started talking about Robb Averty and how the police believed me about being abused and how I couldn’t lie because of my condition – (which is not true), I do not know why he brought this up, but it seemed that for some reason Jane Fisher was forcing the issue, I had already got to grips with the fact that the police believed me but had let Averty go round lying about the whole thing. The police then said that the Diocese were offering counselling, that Jane Fisher had offered to arrange counselling, I was absolutely disgusted, after three weeks homeless and having lost my life as a result, hounded by vague threats of police action, alive but only just after a suicide attempt and being interviewed by the police which was causing a trauma that no counselling could heal me from, and when counselling simply was not effective as the damage to me was too severe and my condition meant I could not bond with a counsellor or trust or communicate effectively, I was angry and I explained this to the police officer as best I could, that the Diocese offering counselling through him in these circumstances was an insult.
The Victim support worker said that she and I were looking at civil legal action against Robb Averty, and the police officer said that anyone investigating would see the notes about this interview and all the rest on my file.
He had a bit of paper and he wanted me to look at it and sign it and he said it was an ‘allegation of harrassment form’, I did not sign it or read it, the Victim Support worker did and he said to her ‘you know what it means?’ and she agreed, I think.
I did not read it, I think it was a yellow bit of paper or that may have been because there were copies of it. I didn’t know what an allegation of harrassment form meant.
But the police officer then said to us that it wasn’t even going on ‘my file’ whatever that means, even though he had said that if we were to persue action against Robb Averty then this matter would be seen on my notes.
I was none the wiser and very shocked as we left the police station and the support worker tried to help me but I was too shocked, too traumatized.
I phoned Lou scott-Joynt and asked why I was being damaged this way while the people who had done wrong were not suffering anything.
Lou Scott-Joynt kept saying ‘God loves you’ as if that was an answer, where was any demonstration that God loved me in anything that had happened, I was destroyed, destitute, traumatized and close to losing everything.
I asked her how I was supposed to go on living like this? And just as Tracy had used me saying similar as an excuse to set the police on me, Lou Scott-Joynt, probably via the Bishop and Jane Fisher, did the same.
I was contacted by the Victim Support worker who said that the Diocese had contacted PC 333 and claimed I was suicidal.
I told her I had nothing to live for but was not suicidal, because even if I was, I was not going to be detained and brutalized again for no reason and be released more traumatized, it would drive me to suicide.
So the Victim Support worker told PC 333 that I was not suicidal, and I asked the Diocese to stop driving me towards death with the incessant police action and I asked the Bishop to deal with my complaint, including my complaint against Jane Fisher.
I remained deeply traumatized and lacking in any quality of life as August and September wore on, I could hardly walk and could not afford a pair of boots, and was wearing soft shoes with holes in and so the misalignments and damage in my right ankle steadily grew worse from the wear and tear of walking everywhere and I suffered trying to ride on buses that were crowded and expensive.
I had almost no computer access, using the library or internet café computers when I could get to them.
Hampshire police said they had my laptop and it was still working when it was fished out of the sea, but though I asked them to look after it for me as I couldn’t get there to collect it, they had apparently ‘had it destroyed’ by the time I got there to collect it.
The Diocese were well aware of my suffering, in full, as I told them. I was living an unsustainable life in Jersey now, without the car, transport was impossible, struggling to walk, struggling with buses, unable to keep any freelance work due to no transport and unable to fulfil my role at work completely due to no transport to take machinery for repairs or get supplies from the garden centre etc, too isolated where I lived due to no car and no computer, and basically no quality of life left, as well as being overwhelmingly traumatized and knowing I was condemned, on the island and by the Diocese.
The Bishop had again tried to deny that the Keys had done anything and had tried to disagree with me on what the Keys had said, and nothing at all was done.
In the end, the suffering and isolation that was the ruins of my life in Jersey needed to end somehow, but I did not dare to deliberately make myself homeless and I did not want to struggle with the Benefits agency in England for money as I knew it was a hellish task and a six week wait for any money at all.
I was alone a lot at the house, with nothing to do, all my studies and sailing, everything I loved was gone.
Then I became part of St. Brelades church and met Mark Bond and Judith Davey, I will not go into detail in this statement, but they helped me as well as making things worse, and it was what they told me that eventually led to the end of this nightmare limbo in Jersey and my arrest and homelessness in the UK.
In the end I was not having interaction with Lou Scott-Joynt as before, but the Diocese and Bishop had never made it clear why they had involved her and misinformed her or why they had apparently got me into trouble for phoning her when I was told I was allowed to, they never made anything clear, and I had always thought that her involvement would lead to her explaining things to the Bishop and thus the matters in Jersey being addressed and resolved, I was never clearly told that her relationship with me was a ‘counselling’ or pastoral type relationship. Nor was I told when it was to end.
Also she was not unbiased or separate from the Bishop and Diocese, and so she should maybe not have been involved this way, also, she was a relate counsellor but I was not told that, I found it out anyway. I remain horrified about the way she made conversation about sexual abuse in depth that night when I phoned because I was horrified by the way the Keys had called me wicked and said I wasn’t abused.
Lou Scott-Joynt was not named as a witness by the Bishop, Jane Fisher or Bob key but she was a witness, and her name has been omitted from the Korris report and all statements and notes that I know of. It has been omitted that the Relate Counsellor who was a witness at the meeting I had with the Bishop was a colleague of Lou Scott-Joynt’s.
Lou Scott-Joynt continued to be involved after I returned to Winchester but again this is apparently omitted from all records.
Here we go, back in Winchester after being kicked out of Jersey, traumatized and unaware that the Bishop and Diocese would continue to hurt me, this is the hardest thing in the world to write about because this time still traumatizes me too much.
A few days after I arrived back in Winchester I was horrified beyond belief when Lou Scott-Joynt phoned me by accident while trying to phone Sandy Newman about me, (this was apparently because she believed I would be staying with Roy and Sandy, and of course the Diocese wanted to get their side of things across rather than me being believed. Sandy knew Lou from Samaritans functions at Wolvsley as Sandy worked for the Samaritans.
When Lou Rang my mobile and said ‘Hello, Sandy’, I can’t remember what I said, but Lou said ‘Oh, Judith! Hello’ and I replied by saying ‘Go to hell’ and putting the phone down.
I was screaming mad, about what the Bishop and Jane Fisher had done, about Lou trying to contact Sandy and accidentally getting through to me, because if she had got through to Sandy and I hadn’t known then that would have been further harmful, and in the end, the Diocese’s intervention did take my friendship with Roy and Sandy anyway.
Anyway, at the time I phoned Sandy, who was still in Jersey and I told her about Lou Scott-Joynt phoning me by mistake while trying to phone her.
Sandy said she would listen if Lou Scott-Joynt phoned her but she already had her own beliefs about me and everything, and I accepted that.
The number for Wolvsley was on my phone call register as both a missed call and a received call from Wolvsley, and these were the calls that Lou Scott-Joynt had made.
I went to the police station.
The police desk clerk did her best to understand me and arranged for me to see a police officer, I was utterly terrified at going into the back of the police station so soon after returning from police custody in Jersey.
I told the police officer as best I could what had happened, and as far as I am aware, my police record from Jersey had not come through at the time and so I was treated reasonably, and this officer said that I didn’t seem to be a troublemaker from what he could see, because I was trying my best to explain to him how I had got into trouble for fighting back to the Diocese and how now that I was back in England I did not want the Diocese to continue intervention and I was horrified by Lou Scott-Joynt accidentally phoning me when she was trying to phone Sandy about me.
The policeman took my phone and noted the phone number of Wolvsley in the call register.
He went away at some point and came back with his sargent.
The sargent asked what it was all about and again I attempted to explain myself. He seemed slightly bemused and asked if I was suicidal and asked if I had come in talking about ending it all because of this, which I hadn’t, he asked if ‘this kind of thing had happened before’, and I was bewildered and not sure what he meant and so I said about Fred Montague abusing me, but he said that it was on record that I had been taken in by the police before for being suicidal, (which was because of the Lihous), but I assured him I had certainly not come in threatening to end it all, and I was not suicidal, I was horrified that a past record meant that conclusions were jumped to, but I soon found out that this is how the police were and there was plenty more of this kind of attitude to come.
Anyway, I persuaded this sargent and pc that I was not suicidal and had come in because of Lou Scott-Joynt phoning me by accident because she meant to phone Sandy Newman about me. I asked these police to get the Diocese to refrain from contact as they had left me utterly devastated.
The Sargent turned nice and actually said some helpful things, telling me that things would seem tough right now but things would get easier as time went by. I was very grateful for this as no-one else was reassuring me or helping me at the time and I had not heard a kind word for a long time.
The police said they would speak to Wolvsley about it and contact me, they never contacted me and I hoped that that was the end of Wolvsley’s intervention, but sadly it was far from the end of it.
Over the months following this matter, from October into December, the Diocese went behind my back and gave me a bad name in all churches in the Deanery as well as in the homeless services and also violated my friendships. I was left desparate and at the end of my tether and I snapped when I was shouted at by a Vicar in Romsey when he was ‘told about me’ by Jane Fisher and said he knew about the trouble I had caused to Juliet and Fred Montague, but apparently he was not told that I had been abused or any of my side of things, Jane Fisher had never taken my full account of this and had simply gone on slandering me and allowing me to be slandered for the Montagues, in Jersey and here on the mainland.
So I told this guy about being abused and then I went on the run to the shelter of a police station a very long way away, I wanted to ask again for protection from the Diocese, but I had been so badly treated by the police that this time I didn’t dare.
I did phone Wolvsley, my first contact with them since I returned to the UK from Jersey, and this was now December 2010.
I phoned Wolvsley that evening after the Vicar had had a go at me, Lou Scott-Joynt answered and I begged and begged the interference by the Diocese to stop, for them to stop maligning me and hurting me, I begged this for three hours as I fled from Hampshire.
And it was this incident of intervention by the Diocese that caused me to make contact with them again. If the Diocese had left me alone and stopped going behind my back and harming me, then I would have not contacted them, but they drove me to despair by maligning me and allowing me to be hurt by hearing back what they had said, which always omitted my side of things and made me look mad and bad, while the abuse and my disability and what I had been through were omitted.
Lou Scott-Joynt continued her tradition of accidentally saying the wrong thing.
I was taken home by a woman from one of the churches in Winchester, at first it all seemed so innocent, me being taken to her house and then invited to stay, but I had my suspicions almost immediately, however, I was still tying hard to trust people, because you cannot live in this world without trusting.
The day after I was taken in by this woman, who’s name was Julia or Juli Willis, she left me home alone with £70 to pay the washing machine repair man when she allegedly knew nothing about me because she had just met me. This certainly aroused my suspicions.
This was in the week leading up to Christmas.
On Christmas Eve I spoke to Lou Scott-Joynt and asked what Wolvsley thought of leaving me on the streets at Christmas, and I got an answer to my question.
I had had extreme and increasing suspicion about being taken in, especially as Julia Willis was on the phone every time I went to my room and would quickly end the calls, saying she would speak to the other person later if I came into the room.
So when I spoke to Lou Scott Joynt, asking what they thought of me being on the streets at Christmas, her answer confirmed that they knew where I was and I had been ‘taken in’. Because her reply was ‘Are you on the streets?’ with very much a stress on the Are you.
I replied that she had answered my question and I went down to confront Julia Willis.
Julia Willis didn’t deny the involvement by Wolvsley and Jane Fisher, she said ‘Jane Fisher said you would react like this’.
I was furious.
She also implied that I was proving the Diocese right about being mentally ill because I was reacting like this.
This made me even more angry, being angry and distressed about being set up by people who harm you is not mental illness!
Julia Willis tried to prevent me from leaving the house but I was stronger than her.
I escaped her and ran up the road, crying, I had some of my stuff with me and had left some, I had got a whole load of presents and goodies for myself and Julia and the homeless rough sleepers who I was friends with.
It was the middle of the night on Christmas eve when I escaped Julia Willis and ran up the road, not even stopping to put my boots on in case she tried to stop me again, the road was frozen with slush and ice from the recent snow.
I was lost and confused and very very upset.
I put my boots on and two police officers came by as I did that and I wondered what they thought, but I think they had more important things like drunken revellers to deal with.
I tried to go to one of the services at one of the churches or the Cathedral but I was too bewildered, I wandered in and out, the Bishop was in the Cathedral, smiling and wishing everyone a happy Christmas, as if he had done nothing wrong.
His wife saw me and turned away.
I went out, I threw a load of Christmas stuff that I couldn’t carry in the bin and gave a box of chocolates to a beggar who was making the most of the generous Christmas revellers.
I wrote to the Bishop and took the letters to Wolvsley and posted them.
I left a couple of messages on his answer phone.
I also phoned Jane Fisher about this and begged and begged for her and the Diocese to stop interfering.
This was used by Jane Fisher against me in court in 2011 when she and the Bishop again brought charges against me but omitted just why I was contacting her on Christmas Eve, I was contacting her because she had just caused me horrific massive distress and trauma through Julia Willis and had ruined my Christmas.
(by the way, the Korris report seems to either omit that Jane Fisher brought charges against me in 2011 or possibly make out it was the Diocese making charges because I contacted them, I was not in contact with anyone but the Bishop and Jane Fisher at the time and the charges were brought by the Bishop and Jane Fisher, nothing to do with anyone else).
Anyway, that Christmas night I didn’t know what to do, I was in collapse, and I eventually got a taxi, took the taxi out of the noisy busy town centre and away from the revellers, crept into a church and slept quietly and defeatedly on a pew in an open church. Jane Fisher claimed in court that I had been trying to contact her during the time I was actually asleep in the church.
Christmas and the weeks after were horrible for me, as Jane Fisher continued to intervene by apparently going to the Trinity centre with the things I had left at Julia’s house which also caused messages to be passed about this through a homeless friend of mine, breaking the friendship.
I was steaming mad and continued to fight back by phone and text, asking Jane fisher and the Diocese to withdraw from intervention and stop driving me to my death.
I also wrote to Julia Willis and I wanted to go back to the police but I was scared stiff of them so I wrote a letter, trying again to explain the background of the matter and asking them to get Jane Fisher and the Diocese to leave me alone and reminding them that I had asked before when Lou Scott-Joynt had been phoning Sandy about me and managed to phone me by accident. I also phoned the people that Jane Fisher had used to hurt me at Romsey Abbey, who had previously been helping me and I asked them to withdraw Jane Fisher from her intervening.
Anyway. Because I was again speaking up and speaking out, fighting the reputation that Jane Fisher and the Diocese were giving me, they were obviously getting worried for their reputation, so, as Anne died with me struggling to know what to do about going to her funeral as Fred and Juliet would be there etc and I was the shamed outcast while Fred was the protected, respected abuser and Jane Fisher was trying to tell me to go and sit in the church at night with Anne’s ashes or something, so that Fred who she was protecting and who was no friend of Anne’s could be at the funeral with Juliet.
Then Jane Fisher and the Bishop launched their next police attack, on February 14th 2011.
This police attack, though as badly explained as the ones in Jersey, appeared to be a combination of sectioning me and warning me, I was on my way to the CAB to ask again for help in preventing the Diocese from intervening, they hadn’t been helpful so far, and had asked if the Diocese were only helping me and telling me I should see my Doctor, I was in regular contact with my doctor and I saw this as further bias against me and also knew that my view of it would be recorded as paranoia as the Diocese were determined to have mental illness thrust upon me rather than be called to account, it was obvious that the CAB already had the Diocese’s side of things, and it turned out that Lou Scott-Joynt worked for the CAB, and used to be on the board of directors.
Anway, this policeman accosted me, claimed to be ‘only trying to help me and warn me that I shouldn’t contact the Diocese and email them’ I told him they were in contact with me and had been interfering and giving me a bad name and they were emailing me, which was true.
He coldly said ‘where are these emails from them, show me these emails?’ which was a crazy thing to say and I replied that the emails were in the computer, which was true, where else would they be.
Despite not telling me what he was doing and not telling me he was detaining me, he refused to let me go and kept walking in my path, aggressive and hostile and I was terrified.
I began to get more and more distressed, he had apparently warned me but was now not letting me go, I had asked him to ask the Diocese to leave me alone in return, but he was not going to do that.
He backed me into a corner and I was screaming with terror now as he grabbed my arm, he threw me to the ground for no reason and claimed I had tried to bite him when I had done nothing of the sort, I have never bitten anyone in my life.
My computer was broken because he threw me to the ground with my backpack hitting the ground and the computer in it. And after this police attack I never saw my driving licence again, which is one reason I know I will never have my life back, because it was still a Jersey licence and trying to convert a missing Jersey licence into an English licence is not possible.
Anyway, this police had me trapped in a corner and I was screaming with distress because he wouldn’t let go of me. This was opposite a pub where my fellow homeless hung out and it was very damaging to me for them to see this happening.
A female member of the public heard me screaming at the hands of this lone male police officer and came to the rescue, asking me what was going on, I told her that I was autistic and that this policeman was hurting me by holding onto me, she got the policeman to let go of me, but he was still trapping me.
I calmed down once this policeman stopped holding me, but he left bruises on my arms, which were photographed by Sandy Newman a few days later, but I no longer have a copy of the photographs.
The policeman was radioing for backup but he radioed over the local ‘shopwatch radio’ which also included the night shelter who had been contacted by the Diocese and treated me like dirt until I left to sleep rough as a result, so I had no dignity at all.
The police backup arrived and dragged me into a little cage in the back of a van and treated me like a bit of dirt. If this is how they treat people who they are capturing because they believe them to be ill then what hope is there?
I was taken to the police station, I was limp and horrified and had couldn’t move, but I was neither violent nor fighting, when I didn’t move because of terror, they dragged me along the ground by the scruff of my neck, I was choking and my chest was exposed.
They threw me in a cell and stood outside and called me paranoid and talked about what hospital they could get me put in, I was terrified, utterly terrified, I wondered if I was indeed insane, even though I knew very well I was responding to the way the Diocese of Winchester had treated me.
They kept the cell door open, apparently the ‘caring’ Jane Fisher had told them that I suffered claustrophobia and she ‘cared’ enough to ask them not to close the cell door and instead put an officer in the doorway. She didn’t care enough to record this whole matter for Jan Korris though?! Pretending to care while inflicting damage that will never heal is stupid.
I was utterly petrified with a policeman in the doorway all the time, one of my biggest terrors is a man in a doorway blocking my escape, that was the case before this police attack and still is.
They were apparently recording everything I said and did, but I lay there terrified and unmoving.
I was in that cell for 24 hours or more. I was terrified and didn’t dare to move most of the time, all I could see near my head was the boots of a police officer.
A police officer looked up my records and contacted Jersey police, I could hear him saying he would and then he came back and went on about how I had been ‘booted out of Jersey for harassing the Dean’ as if that was completely separate from all of this.
They made me out to be a mad person who just ‘harassed church people’, and they were discussing me and one told another that I was ‘there because I had been harassing the Bishop’.
I had no voice to say that the Bishop and Jane Fisher were harassing me, and I was responding, just as in Jersey I had no voice, I had no voice here.
This is so traumatic that it is hard for me to write.
Anyway, I was assessed by a male nurse, he wasn’t a police officer and I responded to his questions and told him that the sores on my arms were from insect bites and let him check my blood pressure etc.
When he went out, after a perfectly calm and reasonable verbal examination, I heard a police officer say to him ‘That’s the worse case I have ever seen…’
I was terrified that I was indeed insane.
The police were talking about getting me put in psychiatric units, which was obviously what the Diocese wanted rather than having me out there homeless and sullying their reputation.
When the police changed shifts at some point, the police who had brutalized me had gone and I felt a bit better, the police who took the shift were more reasonable.
I didn’t eat or drink anything, I remained terrified.
But when the police in the doorway were talking about CBRN training, I repeated ‘CBRN, gasgasgas’ and they asked me how I knew and I think I told them I had done CBRN, which means chemical and nuclear attack training, which I did in the TA. I also spoke to the police in sign language because speaking to them was so hard, but none of them knew sign language and they half-heartedly spoke about getting a member of staff who did know sign language.
I said I needed the toilet and they let me out of the cell to a bathroom and I used the loo and went back to lying on the cell floor.
When they had brought me in I was shaking and crying with distress but by now I was grimly calm, they couldn’t keep me for much longer and they had not been able to put me in psychiatric hospital.
They told me I could phone someone and they went on about reading me my rights and how I could have a solicitor but I wasn’t under arrest so why should I need one?
I phoned my ex-counsellor Lizzie Dyche, she said she couldn’t be involved in assessment of me for mental health or anything as she was retired and BACP ethics meant she could not be involved in that way as she was retired, but she spoke to the police officers and asked them to get a female officer to sit with me as I was very scared of men. I hadn’t realised I was scared of men really but she is right, I am. She also asked them to get an appropriate adult or someone who knew about autism, and even though they were obliged to do those things they told her they were not going to ‘change their system just for me’, and they didn’t do anything.
I was allowed two phonecalls and so I phoned Canon Paul Townsend who was at St. peter’s Catholic Church, where I had sheltered on Christmas day and since Christmas had worshipped and sheltered there.
I was unaware at the time that he had been made aware of the Diocese of Winchester’s side of things, but I think from his response when I phoned him it began to dawn on me, I phoned him as he had been offering me pastoral help and help getting food and drink since I had stopped going to the Trinity Centre due to the Diocese’s intervention.
I told him that Jane Fisher of the Winchester Diocese had had me detained for responding to the Diocese‘s itnervention, I had already told him some of the background to my homelessness in response to him asking about it previously, and now when I said Jane Fisher’s name he said in response ‘Jane Fisher’ in a way that told me he knew of her.
I asked him to pray for me as I had been in the cells for 24 hours and it was driving me mad. He said he would.
Straight after that, a ‘team’ came to assess me, a psychiatrist, a social worker or doctor? And a psychiatric nurse?
Anyway, they asked what had been going on and they said that they could tell I wasn’t making it up about the abuse and church, that I was too clear to be making it up. They did say that some of my emails to jane Fisher were bizarre – (well she literally drove me mad, I could not cope with her and it re-traumatized me every time I had to deal with her, and each interference from her sent me barmy.
I didn’t have the words to explain that my fear of the police helicopter was because they had traced me by plane when I was going to kill myself the previous year.
Anyway, the team offered me a low dose of mood stabilizer and told the police to let me go and asked me to come up to the hospital to see the crisis team that afternoon, I agreed but they seemed to think I might run away and I told them I would not.
The police sargent was rude started on about how I should leave the Bishop and diocese alone and I said well how could I if they wouldn’t leave me alone? He said that the Diocese had not done anything wrong and that I was in the wrong, this is despite my complaints to the police about the Diocese, but I gather from the Korris report that Jane Fisher met with the police and got the diocese’s side across, so once again I was defenceless at the hands of the diocese and facing police action every time I protested.
The sargent told me to go away and take my medicine and behave and leave the Diocese alone, but I knew they wouldn’t leave me alone.
The police pushed me in a rush to sign for my belongings and I was scared and I didn’t check my belongings, I do not know what happened to my driving licence, if they took it or not, but my computer was broken from being flung on the ground.
I was free.
I was also very ill with distress, and I almost ran to my friends who had been expecting me that morning and told them as best I could why I hadn’t turned up, they were horrified.
I went to the hospital to see the crisis team as I had no home so they couldn’t come to me.
A woman from the crisis team met me and worked with me at regular intervals over the next few weeks, we got on well, she was nice and she said she saw no sign of serious mental illness but felt that trauma was a problem, I discussed what had happened with the church and as well as that I wrote the most comprehensive explanation of my upbringing that I had ever expressed to anyone. I then started writing about what happened since but didn’t get to finish that before I was discharged from crisis help.
I was always nervous about going to the hospital but the staff there were lovely and when I arrived the hospital kitchen staff would go into a frenzy and bring me whatever they could find, huge food parcels, hot meals, delicious puddings, lots of tea, they were so kind.
The crisis team lady talked to me, listened to me and continued to say I didn’t come across as mentally ill and that she knew churches could do wrong and cover up as she had seen it happen elsewhere.
After the few weeks, she said that she had to end our contact as she was only a crisis worker and I was not mentally ill.
She got a doctor to come and see me and assess me, which upset me as he asked all the mental illness questions and I had already answered them to the lady, but he didn’t appear to find any mental illness and the main worry of both of them seemed to be my anxiety levels.
They asked if I wanted a referral to the community mental health team for my anxiety and I said no, I knew nothing good and heard nothing good about the community mental health team and I didn’t want them hanging round my neck and making things worse, and so no referral was made.
The crisis lady said I could keep in touch with her and phone her anytime, she seemed kind of reluctant to end the sessions and I was slightly puzzled, but she was a lovely lady and we did get on well.
I did phone her sometimes because I continued to suffer, but even though she had said I could phone, her colleagues said that now she wasn’t working with me then I shouldn’t phone, again I am autistic and get confused by these things.
Anyway, life went on, I had survived, but the memories of that police brutality will haunt me to my dying day.
When I was released from the police I immediately told the Bishop and Jane Fisher what I thought of them.
I got a reply from the Bishop, and was surprised, he claimed to want to have a meeting.
What? You want a meeting after all that? What the hell would be the point of any meeting now?!
But I didn’t actually reply like that, because I still hoped that these people were Christians and would realise how much they had damaged me and change and bring justice and restore me, and I went on hoping this, in vain.
I replied to the Bishop that I was not saying no to meeting with him but that I was not ready to meet him yet, I was too traumatized and I would have to gather myself and that might take a while.
I also made it as clear as possible that I was not willing to meet with Jane Fisher as she is a devious damaging liar.
My words were ‘I would rather make love to a skunk’.
And I told the Bishop and Jane Fisher that their attemt to force serious mental illness on me had failed.
I never did meet with Bishop Scott-Joynt before he retired, I tried to overcome my fear of him and see him as human by worshipping sat the Cathedral with him, but he trapped me in a corner, I escaped and he then claimed not to have trapped me when I told him not to do that.
Time was running out as the Bishop was due to retire, and he obviously intended to retire without taking my complaint seriously.
Then the next Diocese induced crisis hit.
I spent a lot of time sheltering in St. Peters church, though the priest no longer wanted to speak to me apart from occasionally trying to put me in a bed and breakfast.
He was made an honorary canon of Winchester Cathedral by the Bishop at that time and though his office worker claimed he didn’t associate with the Bishop and was not interested in the position, which he did take, he very obviously was in contact with the Bishop about me. He was a Catholic priest and it was a Catholic church and I had thought I was safe from the Diocese there, but obviously not.
And I found out for sure there was talk going on when I walked into the Catholic church one day and overheard what was being said about me. And this is one of the reasons I will never really feel safe with church people again.
The woman who was the equivelant of a church of England Verger in the Catholic church was talking to one of the women from the Catholic church officer, a place where I often sat and drank tea and folded service sheets and news sheets.
It is hard to think about this conversation without trauma and shame.
The woman was going on at the office woman about me, saying she had hoped I would just get the message and leave after… I gather she was talking about the police detention of me, she said that Father John said… (Father John used to be nice to me and had encouraged me by saying he wasn’t surprised I had been angry with the Avertys and the Dean, but then all of a sudden he had started pointedly ignoring me), anyway, this woman went on and said something about Sue’s opinion (sue was a member of church staff who had been supportive but also made excuses as to why Father Paul was now refusing to speak to me after his initial interest and pastoral care), anyway this woman went on about how I was trouble, how I had been swearing at the Bishop and his wife and how they were very upset, especially the Bishop’s wife…
And how I had the cheek to sit in church writing nasty emails on my laptop…
I approached her then and asked if she had also ‘heard’ that I was autistic and had been abused and driven to distraction by the church of England?
I added that what I was writing in church as I sheltered was a complaint to the Archbishop of Canterbury, and why was she, if she called herself a Christian, spreading poisonous gossip?
She puffed herself up in a way that only self-righteous and narrow old church people can, and said she WAS a Christian and had a VERY CLOSE relationship with Christ.
So why are you maligning me? Do you know what I went through with abuse and cover ups? Do you know I am autistic and the stress snapped me?
No, she didn’t know that. But that she was being so nasty about me while confidently puffing herself up as Christian really shook my faith, either I am truly something wicked or the meaning of Christianity is forgotten.
Anyway, this woman started yapping that I could ‘complain to Father and see where it got me’ if I didn’t like what she said, the other woman was silent and they left.
She continued to sneer at me when I passed the church in the future, but I never went back there, or any other church in Winchester because basically the slander of me had gone through the whole lot, as well as the homeless services and police, and it was shortly after this that I left Winchester.
But firstly I did a few things. I did complain to the priest about this nasty little shrew who was spreading rumours, she was already known as a bit of a hypocrite and troublemaker. She had no friends in church and she liked to try and boss everyone and everything in the church and was rude and unchristian to a number of people as well as trying to turn homeless people out of the church, so it wasn’t just me.
She ‘retired’ a while after that.
But immediately after that horrible incident, I went to Wolvsley.
I went up to Wolvsley feeling sick but I wanted to beg the Bishop to stop hurting me through other people.
Lou Scott-Joynt opened the door and I moved back, overwhelmed and in tears.
She said ‘Judith! Don’t run away!’.
I didn’t run away, I said to her in sign language that St. peters had hurt me terribly with what was said.
But she didn’t know sign language and I couldn’t speak.
She worked out what the sign for church meant and I said in sign language that I had gone to pray and heard terrible things.
She could tell I said prayer and she thought I wanted prayer, she told me to come in and they would pray for me in the chapel in Wolvsley but I wouldn’t go in Wolvsley.
I took the Mary talisman from round my neck and tried to tell her about St. Peters but she thought I wanted to pray. She tried to pray to Mother Mary for me which seemed silly as she was not a Catholic and she went on in her prayer about me ‘getting the help I needed’ which made me angry because they had prevented me from getting the help I needed and had tried to force mental illness and mental services on me.
She asked if I wanted some soup and I said ‘soop’, because that is one of my autistic words with ‘oo’ in it, I like oo words and I tend to say them repetitively.
She got me soup and tea and then she said did I want to talk to her husband, she went and got him and he came out, cold and fierce and I started walking away.
I said something about them condemning me in Winchester and he shouted out that that was rubbish.
Well how is it rubbish? He and Jane Fisher had given me a bad name in the Deanery, allowed Juliet Montague to send emails out about me on my return to Winchester even though I had made a complaint against her and her husband, maligned me to the homeless services, met with the police about me and basically left me outcast in my home city, how is that not condemning me?
I then wrote to the Catholic Priest asking why his church had been as unchristian as to involve themselves and allow that spiteful old gossip to malign me with one side of the story!
I had a few more dealings with the Bishop and his wife, his wife tried to feed me on the doorstep like a dog because I suppose after trying to invite me in to pray in the chapel before, she was reminded that that is against safeguarding rules.
But when the Bishop came out I was always sick or ran for it.
I started to spend time in other towns where I was not condemned, and this was the start of my move from Winchester, being away in the weeks following the shocking condemnation by the Catholic church because of ‘what they had heard’ from the Bishop and Jane Fisher.
I never went back to St. Peters, or any church in Winchester, I should have known from what happened with Julia Willis and the Baptist church and City church that all that would happen would be continued condemnation, but I was desparate to belong somewhere and have a second chance, and the Diocese would not allow it.
I roamed across Hampshire, Wiltshire and Sussex, all places familiar to me, and back to where I had worked in Sussex and where I had lived in Hampshire as a child.
It was now April 2011 and I was traumatized and lost.
I had a few conversations with Lou Scott-Joynt, in fact I think I had some earlier in the year, but she was still saying things that caused upset and confusion.
I remember her asking what they could do to help me? To which the answer was ‘Deal with my complaint and bring justice and let me settle and not be maligned and warned against’, but that was not taken seriously.
Lou wanted to ‘give me some of her old clothes’, which was really silly because she and I were different sizes, and I lived on the streets and wore old clothes and her clothes were all very fine and fashion labels. I was more insulted though when she said that she would ‘leave her old clothes out in the shed for me’.
Lou Scott-Joynt had a thing about me and their shed, she astounded me by claiming that she and her husband thought I hung about in their shed, at the time the thought had never occurred to me, why would I hang around where they could set the police on me? Why would I hang around at all? I went up to Wolvsley repeatedly only to send them letters with my side of things and begging for justice and them to stop slandering me and making life hard for me.
I had never dreamed of hanging around in their shed, and they would certainly have found that thought to be untrue if they regularly checked their shed. I stopped and sheltered in that shed once as the rain pelted down, and there were addicts who sheltered there sometimes, Lou claimed that she knew no one slept there, when I asked if she thought I slept there. But sometimes the addicts did.
I slept there one night after the Bishop and his wife had left Wolvsley and I was briefly back in Winchester, I was too tired to walk to my sleeping place and the weather was very bad. But it was one of the worst sleeping places I have tried.
Lou Scott-Joynt revealed that the Bishop and Diocese did know that they were having an impact on me when she said ‘I know you don’t want to be housed because you feel frightened by us’ or similar words. Repeating back what I had said in an email to the Bishop and Jane Fisher about how I would not be housed because I would feel vulnerable to them and to police attacks simply losing me my home traumatically again.
And I told Lou that because of the police record, I would never be anything but on the streets among my kind, the unwanted, the underworld.
She then aroused my anger when she said, maybe in the same conversation ‘so many people say you are a nice girl’ She made it sound like I was still being talked about a lot, and apparently I was discussed with people who ran the soup kitchen, as well as people who I had known in my old churches in the Littleton Benefice. Which made me angry, when and where was this intervention by the Diocese going to stop?
Another Lou Scott-Joynt was: ‘so many people want to help you if you would only let them’.
To which the answer was, what people? Who have you been discussing me with now and why is it the Diocese’s business who helps me when I will not accept help from anyone connected with the Diocese.
And this is how it was, Lou Scott-Joynt tended to actually tell me the real situation by accident or say things that caused me alarm.
I was in and out of Winchester, moving around but having to come back to Winchester as I had to collect my giro from there and had no post office account or English bank account to have my money paid into and I wasn’t sure where to move my claim to as I had no other town where I felt safe and settled. I sattelited Winchester, going to Southampton, Portsmouth Chichester, Petersfield, Alton, Guilford, Salisbury, Bournemouth, basically anywhere in the South.
The Bishop didn’t deal with my complaint and he retired, leaving me homeless with a bad record and Jane Fisher still free to intervene and harm me.
And after what had happened at St. Peters, I could not stay in Winchester.
The Bishop came back a few times to get things from Wolvsley, and I begged him to deal with the complaint, and I tried to be all nice and say that I didn’t hate him like his wife, Lou accidentally said I did, which was another of her errors, I tried to say it was the opposite of that, I didn’t hate him, I respected him because he was a Bishop, but later this was used in police evidence and they asked pretty much if I fancied the Bishop and was stalking him, and the same with Jane Fisher, I told them at the time I liked the bishop’s wife as she had tried to help me and I hated Jane Fisher, but anyway, that was later on.
Probably the stupidest thing I did or had done in my life was continue to ask the Bishop to deal with the complaint once he had retired and continue to ask Jane Fisher not to go on vilifying me and driving me. Because they had me arrested as a result. I walked into that, fair And square.
I continued to come and go from Winchester once the Bishop had gone, I continued to ask Jane Fisher to stop being involved with me.
Jane Fisher said that the Bishop would not get any emails from me because he had retired, but I did send him a few, because I wanted him to deal with my complaint.
It turned out Jane Fisher was lying, and not for the first time.
Because when she and the Bishop next had me in court, the Bishop said I had emailed him since his retirement.
I have the email from Jane Fisher where she claims that the Bishop will not get my emails because he had retired.
Anyway, I was still suffering, I continued to move about but day and night I suffered because the whole matter was unfinished and the trauma was bad and I felt at risk from Jane Fisher, even though I had asked the police to get her to leave me alone.
I slept in the Portsmouth area more and more now. I was overwhelmed with distress and also dispossessed, unsure where to go as Winchester had been my home town since I was 17 and everything and everyone there had been wiped out, my life there was gone and replaced by shame and rejection, but Portsmouth was not a good district for a lone female rough sleeper even though there were some nice homeless people and soup runs.
Further along the line, Brighton and Hove were overrun with rough sleepers, especially immigrants, and so I returned to my past at Chichester and Petersfield, trekking between these towns.
It broke my heart to remember how I used to work here, I used to have a car, and although life was always a struggle, life had been better back then, when I was working and had a car and was not a condemned criminal fugitive. I wanted to go and see one of the gardens I used to look after, a spectacular walled garden, but I was too afraid to ask, because I expected everyone to treat me as if I was bad by now, because of how I had been treated in Winchester.
Petersfield is a small town and had little provision for the homeless, Chichester is also rather short of facilities but offers more than Petersfield because the homeless gravitate to Chichester just as they do to Winchester as both are smaller and thus safer cities compared to the bigger cities, there are plenty of sleeping places and both Winchester and Chichester are rich towns, which means good pickings for alcoholic and addicted beggars.
I spent more time in Bognor and Chichester in the end and became friends with a lovely young couple in Bognor, who helped me through some very bad patches of trauma and I am extremely grateful to them.
Among the homeless of Chichester and Bognor and those who did the Sussex circuit that included Hove and Brighton, there were some gems, several very damaged but lovely people, and they will always be in my heart and my prayers, I ended up staying in the area partly because they encouraged me to stay.
Chichester had a daycentre and the staff were nice and never pressured me, apart from one autocratic lady, and every homeless service has at least one like her, who is there because of a need to control people and they fulfil that need by treating the homeless like naughty children, which always gets my back up.
The daycentre was ok but overrun by immigrants, just like the one in Portsmouth had been, and I am not racist but they were rude and pushy, rattling the shower door as soon as I went for a shower, grabbing the kettle when I went to make a cup of tea, etc. The daycentre itself was ok and the staff cared, which was good, and so I started to relax, and I was persuaded to consider being housed in one of the houses run by the same charity that ran the daycentre, I went along with the process and was honest with them although it killed me, that I had a police record for fighting back to the Diocese of Winchester. The staff didn’t treat me like a criminal, they tried to persuade me to stay in the nightshelter that they also ran, and I tried to but I was too distressed by it and preferred to stay outdoors in the dark, alone.
I walked between Petersfield and Chichester sometimes, and this is how I found out by accident where Bishop Scott-Joynt lived, I wouldn’t have noticed but he lived in a house on the shop driveway between Chichester and Petersfield and I recognized his car.
But I did nothing to his house and didn’t go on his property, his drive was the shop drive and so I got a cold drink from the shop. Before I knew he lived there I sometimes camped in the churchyard up the road, but I stopped doing that.
But I did start phoning him again, to ask that he dealt with my complaint ‘because you can’t retire from being a Christian, and leaving the matter undealt-with and destroying me is not Christian’, basically, if you can understand it, I still lived in hope that he Bishop and Jane Fisher would realise they had done wrong and would bring justice and undo the harm they had done to me.
Instead they got me into more police trouble, which was much easier for them than dealing with what they had done to me.
I had made friends with people in the churches in Chichester, there was a team of three clergy at one church and a Vicar and secretary at another church and these five worked closely together and did various things to help the homeless.
There was an older clergyman who was preparing to retire, he was not really friendly but he was helpful, I think he was weary. Then he had two assistant priests, a man and a woman, and they made every effort to be kind and helpful and inclusive and I really remember them with warmth, but have never gone back as the Bishop and diocese would have slandered me there.
The male assistant priest really practiced what they preached, and he would come to the homeless daycentre and make breakfast for the homeless, and he would play scrabble with us. While at the other church, a nice Vicar and his equally nice secretary who was about to start her training to be a priest, always made me welcome to coffee at church and craft mornings and things, and they provided a meal for the homeless on Sunday.
There was also a gospel hall that made me welcome and fed me and prayed for me. All of these things remain a warm memory and the five Anglican clergy heard that I had been abused in church and left homeless as a result of that, and they were very honest with me about the troubles that had happened in the Diocese of Chichester and told me about it all, and I told them a bit about my background, I used to have some very helpful chats with them, and it helped me to feel better about everything, especially church of England clergy. Credit to the troubled Diocese of Chichester, their clergy were lovely to me, don’ tar all of them with the same brush.
As I was supported by the daycentre who were also trying to house me, probably in Bognor and I was beginning to feel safer and we were looking at sending me to a daycentre/occupational therapy centre for people on the autistic spectrum, where I would work in the workshops and gardens, I was also considering study at the university, though how I could explain to them what had happened, I did not know, and as well as all that I was in contact with a sexual abuse counselling service.
It was one evening when I had just finished talking to one of the clergy after evening prayer that I suffered the last and in some ways worst police intervention on behalf of the Diocese and Jane Fisher.
I was walking away from church, I had been chatting to one of the assistant priests and I was at the roundabout and trying to decide whether to go to the library for the last half hour or so or go to look for takeaway leftovers at the leisure complex as I was going hungry a lot in the evenings back then.
I started to walk down to go to the leisure complex and decided to change my mind and increased my pace so that I could make the most of the last half hour in the library.
Why do the police lie so much? This police officer came after me claiming that I had ‘made him run?’ and implying I was running away from him, I wasn’t even running, I was walking fast to get to the library.
The police officer lied some more when he said that I ‘knew what this was about’ and then again when he claimed that ‘they only wanted to talk to me and then I would be on my way’ Another 24 hours in a police cell is not ‘only wanting to talk to someone and then they will be on their way’!
The police took me to a police car and then said they were arresting me for ‘religious harrassment’. Which was ridiculous as I had not committed any religious harrassment and was of the same religeon as the Bishop and I had kept on at him because of the damage done to me, not because of religeon.
The female assistant priest saw the police get me and she came over and stopped her car behind the police car just off the roundabout at Chichester, she came and held my hands as I sat in the police car and she asked them what was going on and they spoke to her aside but I do not know what they said. She told me she would phone the police station later and find out what was going on.
I knew that I had already lost her and all the other kind clergy to the Diocese of Winchester because there is no way that the diocese of Winchester would let any clergy believe I was a good person and that the Diocese of Winchester had done wrong.
They took me to the police station and said I was being charged with religious harrasment against Michael Scott-Joynt.
The sargent at the police station said he ‘knew me from somewhere’, he was saying like as if I had been there before and was in trouble all the time, but I had never been to Chichester police station before.
A policewoman put on a glove and tried to search me and I screamed in terror and tried to get away, so the brutally threw me about like Jersey police and Winchester police had, and threw me in a cell, I was screaming but I stopped being able to breathe in properly and the air kept coming out in a scream and no air was going into my lungs, because I was having an asthma attack on the cell floor, locked in.
They had taken my backpack with my medicines and inhalers away, and no one was taking any notice of me, I was just left not breathing properly on a cell floor.
I was left like that for some time, and I didn’t respond to the police at all, again a police officer claimed that my screaming and distress meant I was mentally ill. I suppose there can’t be a single police officer who understands autism or trauma.
It is difficult to remember the sequence of events, but I was left on a cell floor for a long time. Sometimes I think I was in there for 24 hours, sometimes I think it was a few days.
But at some point a security man who was not police, came and asked if I needed anything, and at some poin the took me out into a yard and he said he would let me be out there as much as possible, he asked if I was really a rough sleeper and he said he taught outdoor persuits and he thought rough sleeping sounded wonderful, he was not police so he was ok and I told him I liked rough sleeping.
I was in a cell and a woman came to see me and said she was an ‘appropriate adult’.
It is the first time the police had provided an appropriate adult correctly and I was surprised.
This woman told me to hold her hand and she wouldn’t let anyone hurt me.
She led me to the desk in the police station and the sargent was nasty and said that there was the ‘easy way of doing things or the hard way and they would do the hard way if I didn’t co-operate’, I turned to the woman and asked why this man was being nasty when I wasn’t doing anything?
The woman told me they wanted to take my fingerprints, she said she would stay with me, the sargent and the woman discussed what was wrong with me and the woman said autism and I said that was correct and the sargent said schitzophrenia and I said that I did not have that and was not diagnosed with it, it was what the Bishop and Jane Fisher kept trying to make me have in order to make it all be my fault.
The sargent said they were going to take my DNA as well and I knew that meant I was bad forever because if my DNA was ever found near a crime scene even if I never did anything, then I would be arrested and knocked about again.
The sargent told the lady they had looked through my bag and my medicines and ‘there was nothing untoward there’.
I do not know if they took my DNA, they took my fingerprints and the lady made them be gentle with me.
I do not know what order the interviews I had went in.
I think I was assessed by a mental health team, I remember a bright friendly woman and I think there were two others, they asked what was going on and I explained to them about the church hurting me. The mental health team asked where else I had been and why I might stay in Sussex, and I told them about my Dad and Grandma being from Brighton and how I hoped to find my grandma who was at either Hove or Worthing and I told them about my friend Braveheart who was at Brighton and about my friends in Bognor and how I had lived and worked here near where the Bishop lived.
Then I was put back in my cell and later the bright lady came back and she said that they couldn’t help me because I was not mentally ill. She said that they (the mental health team) felt sorry for me and I was obviously distressed but I was not mentally ill and so they couldn’t help, she added that she wanted me to contact social services when I was released as she wanted them to help house me, I think she gave the details either to me or to the sargent.
I was then interviewed by a psychologist, who asked what was happening and I did my best to explain, and I think it was during this interview that a police officer came in and said that they had had a call from Hampshire police and that I was also facing charges brought by Jane Fisher for harrassment. The officer said that ‘Hampshire police had been after me for some time’ over this, but I had seen Hampshire police a few weeks earlier and they had not been after me, the time I saw Hampshire police a few weeks earlier is mentioned in the email of complaint that I made on 13/06/2011.
So I don’t think Hampshire police had ‘been after me for a some time’, I think that Jane Fisher and Michael Scott-Joynt had liased and decided that if they both brought charges, as they did in Jersey, I would be locked up.
I did my best to explain myself to the pyschologist, I remember very little but he said something about me not being mentally ill in terms of the assesment, or something, and he enquired into my background and I did my best in the short time we had and with my difficulty verbalizing things, to tell him, as well as trying to explain about the church.
I was put back in my cell and then I was interviewed by a police officer and had to listen to nonsense about myself.
I can barely remember it all. But the police officer showed me an email to Jane Fisher from me and asked if I had sent it and I said yes.
He said that I had been seen on the Bishop’s property, near his garage, and I protested that I had never been on the Bishop’s property unless he owned the driveway to the shop, which was a communal driveway with at least five or more houses on it and the shop, and I had gone to the shop for a cold drink as I walked past a few times, please note, I used to use that shop many years before the Bishop lived on that driveway, when I used to work up the road from there. Although back then I had had my car and had been driving from work to the sea.
It was claimed that the Bishop and his wife ‘came after me to see if they could help me when I was in a side road’, I was baffled by that, as they had never done anything of the sort and I protested.
The police asked if I loved the Bishop or Jane Fisher? Or something, ie was I an obsessed stalker, and I remembered Juliet and how she had consistently and even about the Avertys, claimed I was as stalker, even though I never stalked anyone, especially not the Avertys.
I stated that I hated Jane Fisher, I did not know about the Bishop but that I liked his wife for trying to help me.
I cannot remember any more but I know I was not able to adequately express to the police in that short time, what had happened to me in Jersey and then Winchester that had led to me angrily bombarding the Bishop with ‘deal with my complaint if you call yourself a Christian’ calls and Jane Fisher with ‘I hate you, don’t go on harming me by intervening behind my back’ calls, which did contain some bizarre references as I was very messed up indeed by then.
But the police didn’t really take my side into account anyway.
I was put back in my cell.
I do not know how long I was in a cell for at all. I know I was in detention for at least 24 hours, and I was terrified and panicky because I was trapped, I closed my eyes and asked god for help, and he sent me an image of the blue ketch Raddedas, who I used to sail with my friends in Jersey, and so I sailed this boat silently alone on calm waters for many hours and that is what kept me calm, that and God telling me I would be freed.
The group 4 Security Man came and let me out when I could and asked me if I would eat and drink, but I was so frightened that I couldn’t. But he did eventually persuade me to have a cup of hot chocolate before I went to sleep.
I was put in a cage in a police van, nothing was explained to me.
I didn’t even know where we were going, which turned out to be Worthing Crown Court, and even now I cannot stand Worthing. But I didn’t even know where I was when they let me out after court, they had to tell me I was in Worthing. All I had known was miles of very fast bumpy journey in the back of a police van.
I went in a cell and I think the solicitor must have seen me at the police station as well but I remember nothing, but I think he saw me at court and so did the psychologist but I remember very little and I don’t recall anything said before I was put in court except, I think it was the psychologist not the solicitor, but I might be wrong, saying I would go to prison next time, I felt it was very unfair because the Bishop had not dealt with my complaint or been at all Christian and I was still not safe from Jane Fisher.
I was put in court and confirmed my name and pleaded what I was told to plead.
I do not remember what it was.
Apparently Jane Fisher had brought a charge of harrassment against me from September 2010 to the present time, although as you will remember, I was in prison at the end of September 2010 and in court in October 2010 for her and the Bishop and Dean’s previous charges against me and I was told not to plead guilty to her charge at the time!
I hope that you understand that, she had me on a charge that could not be true, and she was claiming I had been harassing her since then, even though I had not been in contact with her until December 2010, when her harrassment of me became overwhelming and I reacted, and then, even in December 2010, she had me set up by Julia Willis at Christmas and caused massive distress. And then continued to be involved and cause me to react.
And it was read out in court that I had phoned and texted her 40 times on Christmas Eve, but it was omitted that she had set me up in the Julia Willis situation!
I would not have phoned her at all if she had not been involved with Julia Willis taking me in!!!!!!!!!!!
And so it continued, I heard about how the Bishop and his wife had fictitiously come to see me in a side road near where they lived to see if I wanted help, which simply wasn’t true, and the Bishop told the police how ‘I needed help’, ie he and Jane Fisher wanted me locked in a psychiatric unit, but as this was a court of law and I had been found to not be mentally ill, that wasn’t going to happen.
Hearing that the Bishop said I ‘needed help’ made me angry, he should have helped me by dealing with the situation in Jersey properly so that I hadn’t ended up on the streets ‘harassing’ him to do something about my complaint and withdraw Jane Fisher, because he had left me now unable to trust anyone to help me and he had left me beyond help! The wreck I was in as a result of the police actions meant I would feel unable to seek help or trust help for a long long time.
It was also claimed that I had ‘hung about at Wolvsley’ and the Bishop and his wife thought I sheltered in their shed and lay in wait, which is simply untrue, I had not hung about in their shed and I had gone to Wolvsley to ask for justice and to ask the Bishop and Jane Fisher to stop harming me by intervening. It was all put together to make me out to be a real psycho stalker.
The Bishop claimed that he had ‘put up with phonecalls from me before he retired because he ‘felt sorry for me’. Basically he didn’t give a damn why I had kept making contact but he put up with it because he felt sorry for me. I was fuming about all this.
There was a load of talk about me sending emails ‘short message service’ messages, that I gather mean texts, and making phonecalls.
It was said I had emailed the Bishop six times since he retired, but Jane fisher had claimed that the Bishop would not get emails from me when he retired, so how had he got six emails from me?
And I had never texted the Bishop as implied.
I had texted Jane Fisher and emailed and phoned her, and I had phoned the Bishop, but this was because they had not sorted my complaint out and had left me outcast, homeless and living in fear of further intervention.
The psychologist stood up and told the judge I was not mentally ill but had Asperger Syndrome and was distressed, I think he explained my background and briefly about the church, but I am not sure.
But even so, later on the judge was going on about ‘in the case of mental illness…’ and was saying I was mentally ill thus, but the psychologist stood and said respectfully and with restraint ‘Sir, this is not mental illness, Asperger Syndrome is more to do with the brain working differently’.
I do not remember much else at the moment, but if it comes back to me I will tell you.
The judge talked about a community order, nothing was explained to me, I do not know what a community order is.
But one thing I can tell you, it seems that Jane Fisher may have tried to make out that her conviction of me was ‘on behalf of the Diocese’ or on behalf of Wolvsley, but I ceased contact with Wolvsley or the Diocese when the Bishop left as I knew that they were not going to do anything and they made that clear, and my communication was only with Jane Fisher and the former Bishop.
I was given a map and I cannot read maps but it was something to do with not going near the Bishop’s house, but I can neither read maps nor tell distances and so I did not know how close I was to the Bishop’s house if I was anywhere in Sussex and so I was scared, I knew I had lost my beautiful South Downs and the memories of my work and leisure in West Sussex and the beautiful countryside was marred by this map that was supposed to tell me where I could and couldn’t go but I could not read it and did not know hwo to measure two miles which is something they mentioned about distance to the Bishop’s house, all I knew is I had lost part of my life and was still to live in fear of Jane Fisher as well as now being a really really bad unmendable criminal on record.
When they took me out of court they put me in a room and I was shaking and shaking so they thought I was cold and they brought me an old police jumper, which I still have although I have work it out with years of wearing.
Another person was brought out of the courts after me and he shouted to the security who were escorting him ‘four months, mate!’ in protest at the sentence he got.
The staff were perfectly nice to me and they told me I would get a train back to Chichester, but I said in bewilderment, what town am I in? and they told me I was in Worthing and they gave me a travel warrant and let me go.
I had no idea at all what to do and I was terrified of staying in Chichester as I knew the police had spoken to the homeless services there, and I never did go back to the homeless services or churches in Chichester as I knew they would have been poisoned against me.
I did as the mental health services lady had asked me when I was in police custody and I contacted Chichester social services, who were vague and unhelpful and wouldn’t even explain adequately how to find them when I said I needed to see them face to face rather than struggle with phonecalls.
But a fe weeks later they started emailing me and saying the police had contacted them and then they were making out they cared, but if they were poisoned by the police and I had fled Chichester then I saw no point in them whatsoever.
I was traumatized by the way my posessions had been worked over by the police, my phone was not returned to me, and the policeman who had charged me was away on holiday and apparently no one else was allowed to return my phone, and when I asked at the police station I had a very nasty female clerk being rude and telling me I was twisting her words because I came in and asked for my phone and was told I could come back and get it some days later and then it wasn’t there and she said she hadn’t said I could come back and get it and that I was twisting her words and that the officer was away for weeks and no one else was going to give me my phone.
I never got my phone back, I was on the streets without that lifeline that the phone gave me, so I couldn’t call for help in an emergency and I lost the contact numbers for my friends and family which were all on that phone.
I went to the CAB and asked for help getting the phone back and also seeking legal advice about the way I had been treated, I was not verbally competent enough nor did they understand enough of the complex church case so they tried to say they wouldn’t help me but tried to say it without saying it properly, so I gave up on everything including the phone, which had evidence of Jane Fisher hurting me by text and also phoning me. It remained that contact between me and Jane fisher had been two-way throughout most of this matter, especially in Winchester although I blanked her a lot because she hurt me./
My backpack had been worked over by the police and my things were in a mess, and I was so traumatized that I did not want to touch my things or sort them out, the police had ripped and crumpled my medicines list and stapled through it and I was horrified, I am a private person and I felt violated, my medicine list was because I was on a lot of stuff for physical problems at the time, the list was to inform me what to take when and to inform anyone else if anything happened to me.
I sorted my backpack and went to collect some things from my stash place, and then I left Chichester forever and became truly travelling homeless, changing my name to keep me protected, first unofficially changing my name and then by deed poll.
I trusted no one and when it came to dealing with authorities such as homeless services and councils, I was honest and kept my real details but this kept leading to my bad record being looked up and me being traced and treated like dirt, so I could not be housed or helped, and eventually I deed-poll changed my name and avoided formal daycentres where they needed all the details.
It was tough and I have continued to have severe trust issues and problems due to my past, but as time went on I began to realise that not everyone will hurt me, and I began to heal as best I could and seek help.
I never had any more contact with the Scott-Joynts or Jane Fisher and I hoped that maybe I would be safe from them and the Diocese of Winchester, and only in the last six months did I have my first nights without flashbacks and nightmares and traumas, but now it has all kicked off again.
Basically, I knew at the back of my mind that jane Fisher is too vindictive and too obsessive to let someone go once she has made up her mind to make life hell for them. I lived in fear and on the run from her for two years and though it was a horrible shock when the police launched on me for the Diocese in March this year, I was not surprised, I doubt she will stop harming me even when I am in my grave.
This report will have omitted some things, not deliberately but because of gaps in my memory and trauma.