I hoped Dad had changed but he proved me wrong in the most evil way
Vikki Bigwood, 29, Reading
I was chasing a football around the back garden when my dad, David, then 29, threw open the back door.
‘Tea time,’ he called. It was 1999, I was 4. Dad and Mum split when I was a baby and she lived across town.
I visited her sometimes but mostly, I was with Dad.
I was a carefree kid and Dad gave me freedom to play, but made sure I was clean and well fed.
And that evening, after wolfing down fish fingers and chips, I snuggled on the sofa to watch cartoons before bed.
‘Go brush your teeth,’ Dad said a short while later.
Nodding, I climbed the stairs before Dad tucked me under the covers.
Only, some hours later, my door creaked open.
‘Dad?’ I said, startled.
Silently, he sat on my bed.
‘What’s going on?’
I said, half asleep. Suddenly, he slid his hand under the duvet.
Snaking it up my leg and touching me under my PJs. I froze, and after a few minutes Dad stood up and left without a word.
Confused, I didn’t know if it was normal.
But I felt frightened. From then on, Dad touched me before school, after school, at bedtime.
Maybe it’s just what dads do, I wondered.
A year later, Mum died from unknown causes, only in her thirties.
I was distraught, and now, only had Dad to turn to.
Throughout primary school, the abuse worsened. I became withdrawn. Dreaded coming home. ‘Don’t tell anyone, it’s our secret,’ Dad would whisper, as I cowered under the sheets.
Too scared of getting into trouble, I never told a soul. When I was 11, I’d go to friends’ houses after school.
I saw what a normal family looked like.
None of their dads do what mine does, I thought to myself.
‘I can’t keep this in any longer,’ I said, blurting my terrible secret to a friend.
They told a teacher, and the next day I was pulled from class to speak to police.
‘Can you tell us about your dad?’ the officer asked. ‘He’s been touching me,’ I said shakily.
A few days later, Dad was arrested on the school run.
I was sent to live with a foster family.
Dad denied everything, but I bravely gave evidence at his Reading Crown Court trial in May 2006.
Turned out I wasn’t his only victim.
David Bigwood was found guilty of 19 sexual offences against children under 16, including myself.
He was sentenced to 10 years in prison.
I finally felt safe. Eventually I went to live with my grandparents on Dad’s side.
Dad was arrested but he’d left my life in tatters again
We never spoke about him and as time went on, I grew up, clawed my life back. Even fell in love.
I moved into a sha
