'The only man who loved me abused me'

AS a little girl Yvonne Priestley cannot remember her parents ever holding her in their arms or telling her they loved her. Her mother walked out on her when she was two and her father remarried, having the son that Yvonne knew he always longed for.

Tragically, the one person she does recall showing her the love and attention she craved from her parents was her uncle Harry - the man who then sexually assaulted her for years.

She says: "I constantly wanted dad's attention but didn't get it. Harry saw a niche and stepped in and noticed me. He was the only man who ever loved me and said he loved me, but he hurt me in a way beyond redemption."

Now a single mother, aged 30 and living in Darlington, Yvonne is hardened by her experience. She talks in a full and frank way about the abuse, but won't let herself open up emotionally.

She hopes this will change. The reality of her uncle's three-and-a-half year prison sentence yesterday has lifted a huge weight from her shoulders and, for the first time in her life, she has hopes for her future.

"I have built this brick wall in front of me and have relied only on myself for so long. But some of those bricks have begun to fall and I can see daylight," she says.

As a child she remembers how her uncle Harry would initiate games of hide and seek in the dark - his chance to be able to touch her without others seeing. But it wasn't only childhood games that were tainted with lurid connotations for Yvonne - toys and gifts were given with an ulterior motive and affection was dirtied by his immoral touch.

The abuse occurred almost every Sunday, when Yvonne would join the rest of her family at her grandmother's house in West Auckland. It would last for anything from 30 seconds to about four minutes.

"He touched me at first and then would make me touch him. He would sometimes just expose himself to me. I would struggle, but he never complained or got angry," she says.

'He was always ever so nice, in fact he was the only one who showed me any attention. He was kind and never raised a hand to me. I saw his behaviour as strange, but not horrible because I was getting cuddles from this man. He never told me not to say anything and he never said it was wrong.

"I got through it by believing there is always someone worse off than myself. That is how I survived."

When she was 14 Yvonne walked out of her family home and found the strength to tell her uncle that the abuse had to stop. She then wanted to speak out about it.

"I wanted to tell anybody who would have listened, but I didn't have confidence in anybody," she says. "He was the blue-eyed boy, the pillar of the community and people liked him. I knew that nobody would have believed me."

At 18 years old the truth about the abuse finally surfaced when she told her father.

"He didn't believe me, he just nodded and said 'right'. I thought he should have been mad at Harry, but he wasn't. It all seemed to die away after a couple of months because I had no support," she says.

The first time Yvonne seriously considered contacting the police was when she found out Priestley - a father of three girls - had a job as a caretaker at a North-East school. "I was horrified. I chewed myself to bits trying to pluck up the courage to ring the police," she says.

In June 2003, she finally took the steps that she thought she could never take by reporting the abuse to Darlington police.

Priestley was arrested, charged and, earlier this month, was found guilty at Durham Crown Court of seven counts of sexual abuse and gross indecency against Yvonne and another child. He was sentenced at Newcastle Crown Court yesterday, placed on the sex register for life and ordered never to work with children again.

"I feel a lot calmer now because of all the people who actually believed me. I didn't feel like I was mad any more," she says.

"I had carried it a long time on my own and for the first time I had support. The police were fantastic and to anyone who doesn't think they have the nerve to speak out, I would urge them to do so - the support they need is out there."

She didn't attend either court case, but when she first heard he had been found guilty of the abuse she says she felt numb for an hour. I didn't really believe it, I was shocked. Now I am just delighted he has been given more than three years. More importantly, though, he won't be able to work with children," she says.

Surprisingly, Yvonne is determined not to be labelled as a victim. She says she isn't angry with her uncle and doesn't hate him.

"I have never disliked him - I still don't. I have no feelings towards him really, nothing. I have never had any answers from him, he has never told me why he did it. I don't think he thought what he did was wrong and if it hadn't have been me it would have been someone else," she says.

Counselling has helped her accept that the sexual abuse was not her fault, but it has had a profound effect on her life. She has struggled to hold onto any serious relationship and admits they have all broken down because of her insecurities.

"When I'm in a relationship I can be moody and don't like to be touched in certain ways. I have put up this brick wall that people can't get through and eventually they stop trying. I just can't trust a man to look after me," she says.

Now working as a carer for the mentally ill, Yvonne hopes to study for a degree in psychology.

She openly admits that she never wanted children, but utterly adores her 13-year-old daughter she had with an ex-boyfriend in her teens.

Yvonne says she constantly felt unloved, unwanted and misunderstood as a child, but without even knowing it, she has taken positive steps by refusing to let her family's failings be passed down to the next generation.

"I tell my daughter everyday that I love her and she tells me. She loves me unconditionally because I am there for her any time," she says.

"Unfortunately, the same cannot be said for my parents. Maybe if I had heard the words 'I love you' from them I would have felt able to tell them what was going on."