Madeleine (20 page)

With three of their buddies now on the plane back to Britain, Sean and Amelie continued to attend the Toddler Club every weekday morning. With the realization that we had to be proactive in the search for Madeleine, Gerry and I had become busier and busier, but, looking back, I don’t feel we could or should have done anything differently in those first few weeks, with regard to the twins or indeed anything else. We were always around somewhere and in the time we did have with the children, I’d like to think we made it clear how much we loved them and how vital they were to us. And they seemed to glide through the chaos and misery around them completely unperturbed. If they saw images of Madeleine on the television, they would wave and blow her kisses.

It is difficult to know how much they could have understood then. They were only two years and three months old. But there again, they had spent virtually every day of their lives with Madeleine and, like her, they were bright for their age. There is no doubt that twins have a special relationship, and although Sean and Amelie are like chalk and cheese in many ways, the fact that they have always had their ‘other half ’ to cuddle, play with and talk to must have cushioned the effect on them to some degree. I’m sure the altered family dynamics and psychological consequences would have been a lot worse for one child, or even two of different ages.

Alan Pike talked to us about the twins, of course (and although we weren’t aware of it at the time, he had a session with our friends, too, about what they should and shouldn’t say to their kids). Alan also put us in touch with David Trickey, a chartered child psychologist specializing in traumatic bereavement, who had experience in dealing with families of abducted children. David – who had, coincidentally, recently taken up a post in Leicester – came out to Praia da Luz the following month and spent four hours with us. We just wanted reassurance, really, that we were handling everything in the way we should.

David told us that it was important to be totally honest with children. If they asked a question it should be answered as truthfully and openly as possible. In our case, he said, there wasn’t an awful lot we could tell Amelie and Sean because we didn’t know ourselves what had happened to Madeleine. Obviously, as they got older they would ask more searching questions and, as we continued to respond, they would gradually build up a picture of the situation in their own heads – a kind of ‘pyramid’ of information. After meeting Sean and Amelie – who put on a tremendous performance for him, playing and laughing, as usual, apparently without a care in the world – David assured us that he had no concerns at all about their wellbeing. Even so, we remained in touch, just to reassure ourselves again from time to time that we were still on the right track.

On Thursday 17 May, Michael gave a statement to the media, with Sheree riding shotgun, to follow up the launch of the fund with news of our plans to widen our campaign. The Find Madeleine website was now up and running and would receive 100 million hits over the next four days. The distribution of posters was being expanded across Europe and various multinational companies supporting us had begun to include Madeleine’s image on all outgoing emails. In addition several of our friends and family were photographed dealing with some of the many letters arriving in Praia da Luz.

These encounters with the press went well – all except for the introduction of two little words. Sheree had thought ‘Team McCann’ was quite punchy and suggested a united, determined and resourceful group, which is what we were. But there was a minor backlash, mutterings about it sounding too slick, which led to snide references in the media to the ‘McCann media machine’ and even the ‘juggernaut’. This marked the start of a thread of criticism we would become used to in the coming months.

Taking a short walk along the promenade with Lynda and Seddo, I met up, by chance, with Fiona, David and Scarlett. We all went to a café for a drink and a snack. Never mind playing tennis, even small, ‘normal’ activities like this felt all wrong. Madeleine needed us and it didn’t seem right to take time out, even for fifteen minutes.

I still have this feeling today, at varying levels of intensity: a restless, anxious sense that we have to be doing something in connection with our quest in every waking moment. It remains resistant to logic or ‘sensible talking’ and I’ve just had to learn to live with it. But I am able to accept now that it is important for us to take proper breaks, even holidays, to avoid burning out. It is also important, of course, that Sean and Amelie get quality time with us. And I feel reassured that when we do pause for a rest, we have so many staunch supporters who can be relied upon to press on in the meantime. It became apparent very early on how fortunate we are to have such good and resourceful family and friends.

The following day, Friday 18 May, Lynda and Paul left us. It’s so hard parting in such circumstances. We’d already had so many hellos and goodbyes and there were many more to come, but the goodbyes never got any easier.

Gerry was going home on Sunday, too – just for a couple of days. We had been in Portugal ourselves for almost three weeks. For the moment, Gerry was on paid compassionate leave. As a locum, I wasn’t entitled to this but the partners at my surgery all agreed they wanted to give me two months’ pay, which was greatly appreciated. The inaugural meeting of the board of Madeleine’s Fund was due to take place at home and we wanted a meeting, too, with our lawyers, Control Risks and the British police. We decided that Gerry should go back to the UK to deal with these matters. Given the huge media interest, this flying visit had to be planned quite strategically. The authorities in both countries helped out, ensuring that it ran as smoothly as possible.

Saturdays had become family days: a bittersweet idea. Family without Madeleine? How could that be? We were a family of five! We felt we needed to set aside a whole day in the week, or as near to a whole day as we could manage, to spend with Sean and Amelie, and Saturdays, when they didn’t go to Toddler Club, suited everyone. But these were incredibly difficult times emotionally for Gerry and me. We felt guilty about enjoying anything with the twins while Madeleine was still missing. The twins were adorable and of course they brought us such joy. Madeleine’s absence, though, was crucifying. We tried our best: we have three children and they all deserve a happy and loving life with parents who are there for them.

On Saturday 19 May we all went down to the beach with Fiona, David and their kids. We built sandcastles, ran into the water with Amelie and Sean and played near the hire boats with them. It was a scene that must have seemed so ordinary to any casual observer, but underneath it ran that unshakeable unease that denies me any peace even today. I fretted, too, about what people who recognized us might be saying. ‘How can they possibly be playing on the beach when their daughter is still missing? There is
no way
I would be able to do that if it were me.’ A month ago, in their shoes, I would probably have been saying the same thing myself.

That afternoon, we’d agreed to see a photographer from the
Sunday Mirror
whose pictures would be put into the press pool for the other Sunday newspapers. Having our photograph taken for media purposes was and remains a difficult issue. Apart from the fact that it’s uncomfortable for us and often feels staged, how are we supposed to appear and behave for the camera? Smiling seems completely inappropriate in the circumstances, and even when it isn’t, for example, when we’re playing with Sean and Amelie, as we were that day, it doesn’t stop people criticizing us. ‘Look, they’re smiling – they don’t seem bothered at all, do they?’ Of course, if you don’t smile, you are labelled ‘cold’ or ‘stony-faced’. You can’t win.

At least on this occasion the pictures were fairly natural, showing us engaged in normal activities in the apartment that we’d have been engaged in anyway, and the photographer was very nice, but, to be honest, it all felt a bit naff, for want of a better word. Reflecting on it now, I’m not sure why we agreed to things like this. I suppose it was part of keeping the papers ‘on side’: if we ‘gave’ them something, it would help maintain Madeleine’s high profile. Journalists were always telling us it was important for the general public to see that we were a very ordinary family. The jury’s still out on that argument, I think. What I do know is that trying to maintain the balance between our privacy and the media’s appetite for the ‘human-interest’ angle was very tricky. We were still quite naive back then, especially me, and it would be a little while yet before I began to gain a sense of their priorities. This dilemma has always been at the heart of our difficult relationship with the media. Much as we shrank from the intrusion, we needed them to keep Madeleine in the public eye.

We had also been asked if we would be filmed watching Jon’s Madeleine DVD, which was to be shown again later that day during the FA Cup final coverage. We declined. Now that definitely would have felt staged.

Two weeks into our ordeal, if anything the media attention seemed to be increasing. Apparently, Sky had three anchors in Praia da Luz. The BBC sent out Huw Edwards. ITV dispatched Sir Trevor McDonald, who did a one-hour special from the village. Everyone wanted the first interview with us – there were direct approaches from the BBC and from ITV, in the form of a handwritten note from Sir Trevor – and it seemed the broadcasters were relying on their big guns to get it. We were simply not ready at that point to do such interviews. Gerry was also worried that once we did, the interest would begin to wane and with it the spotlight on Madeleine.

10

MEETING THE PJ

On Sunday 20 May, Gerry left for the UK. It was the first time we’d been apart since coming to Portugal and it was an emotional separation for us both. Going back to Leicester alone, with Madeleine gone, made it particularly hard for Gerry. He had decided not to stay at our house. It would have been too distressing at this stage and, from a practical point of view, there is no doubt that the media would have set up shop outside. In the end he spent both nights with friends who had so far managed to steer clear of the media searchlights, which was much better for him. I was fine, too. Trish and Sandy were there and I had Amelie and Sean. And Cuddle Cat.

At Monday’s meeting with the British police, Gerry was told about plans to launch an appeal in the UK aimed at holidaymakers who had been in the Algarve in the weeks leading up to Madeleine’s abduction. They would be encouraged to send in to the Child Exploitation and Online Protection agency any photographs they had taken in which people they didn’t recognize could be seen in the background. CEOP would use facial-recognition software to screen these pictures for known offenders who might have been in the area. To us this seemed a massive step forward, a sign that the unique collaboration between the UK and Portuguese police was beginning to bear some fruit.

It was later the same day that Gerry met Clarence Mitchell for the first time. Clarence, a former BBC news correspondent working for the Civil Service, was the director of the Media Monitoring Unit attached to 10 Downing Street. He still had many press contacts and had made it known to his Cabinet Office bosses that he missed the cut and thrust of big stories and would be interested, if an opportunity arose, in acting as a government press handler on a major event. As a result, he was seconded to the Foreign Office to come out to Portugal to handle our media liaison as part of their consular support for us.

Gerry hit it off with Clarence straight away. He was also struck very quickly by Clarence’s professionalism and expertise in dealing with the media. Gerry wanted to go to Rothley to see the thousands of messages, flowers and cuddly toys that had been left for Madeleine in the centre of the village. Clarence sprang into action immediately, apparently. Within seconds he was on the phone to the police and talking to the media on the ground about how this could be arranged to give Gerry some space and at the same time allow the press access to his visit. Gerry was able to go and look at the mountain of cards, notes and gifts without intrusion. He was incredibly touched to see a message from one of Madeleine’s best friends from nursery, who had recently moved to Yorkshire. I know how difficult this was for him. He told me how he had struggled to contain his emotions and had only just held it together. The tears did start to flow, however, when he bumped into the landlady of our local pub. This was par for the course: for months afterwards, whenever we met any friends for the first time since Madeleine’s abduction we began to relive what had happened to us all over again and invariably broke down.

Back in Praia da Luz, that Monday evening I went round to Fiona and David’s apartment. Dave fetched an Indian takeaway but I was too upset to eat much. While I was on the phone, talking – or rather crying – to Gerry in Leicestershire, there was a knock on the door. We were slightly alarmed: it was almost midnight. And when

I saw Sandy standing there with two GNR officers, I began to panic.

The officers told me that outside were a lady and her husband who had travelled a long distance to give me some important information. Straight away I went with Sandy and the two officers to their mobile police unit, parked at the front of the apartments. This couple were waiting inside. Having no idea what they were going to say to me, to start with I was very anxious and at the same time trying to rein in my hopes that this might represent a breakthrough. Thirty minutes later, having had a crystal waved about in my face, I could feel the hysteria building up inside me. I could see from his expression that Sandy was sitting there thinking, What is this mumbo-jumbo? and struggling to keep a straight face. There was no way in a million years something like this was going to bring Madeleine back. How had the police allowed such a situation to arise? I was tired and I’d been frightened half to death, but, crazy as this was, these people probably meant well and I didn’t want to offend them.