Authors: D. G Torrens
I was assigned a key worker
called Paul.
T
his was a member of staff who was assigned t
o look after my emotional needs.
I
f I had any problems or concerns
I would report to Paul. Each member of staff had a group of children that they were responsib
le for. Paul was great
, but he was not ver
y popular with the other kids. H
e was nicknamed “Beef
,” because
he was built like a house and very strong. Mary and Sue, my new best friends, were also unhappy at B
ryn Tyn. T
here were too many bullies making daily life more difficult for everyone, which nobody needed on top of being rejected by their own family
and constantly let down by the system
.
Mary, Sue
, and I hatched an escape plan.
W
e each had to sneak some food from
the
kitchen, hide it under our beds, pack our bags in advance of the great run
,
and make sure we had warm clothes
which we would have to sneak out of the locker room,
as it had been snowing outside and
it was now turning to slush.
T
his was Wales
, and the winters were harsh and very cold.
Each evening there were two night watchmen who did their rounds every other hour, so it was imperative that we made our move straight after they had checked our dorms. We gathered our bags, wrapped ourselves up in layers and layers of clothing
,
and one by one we sneaked out of our rooms
,
mindful not to make any noise at all.
Once
we were
out of the building
, we had to
make it outside of the
vast grounds.
There were night
lights on everywhere
,
so
we had to duck underneath the lights
to make our way across the fields, through the woods, across the stream
,
and finally o
ver a rather high fence. We were on our way;
we knew once the night watchmen set about
on
their second rounds the alarm would b
e raised. I
f they were clever enough
, they would
realize that our beds were stuffed with pillows!
The weather was bitter.
We all wore
socks on our hands to act as gloves and a warm barrier against the bitter cold; we had no idea that the forecast for that night was a severe snow blizzard. At first it was our
adrenalin that kept us moving and
the sheer excitement of our great escape into the big
,
wide world
.
F
or a while we decided to follow the line of the river so we were out of si
ght
of the traffic over the bank, because
the last thing we needed was to be caught.
We we
re heading to Manchester to my g
randad’s home in Denton
.
Mary also had family in Manchester
,
so it seemed like
the best option for all of us.
On arrival we
would reach our destination and state our case, after which we were confident all would be well.
After several hours of trudging through wet marshland along the river
,
we wer
e cold and our feet were sodden.
W
e all agreed after much discussion to make our way up to the main road
,
as this would allow us to increase our
speed. Once on the road toward
Chester, w
e started thumbing for a lift. L
ooking back
on it
n
ow, I cannot believe we did that,
but then again, as three young children riding high on a
n adrenalin rush, maybe I can!
I remember we decided to flag down a
lift;
there were three of us, so what could possibly happen?
Well, it appeared more than we had bargained for.
It was about an hour later when we realized how very tired and weary we had become and just at that point, a red car pulled over. A scruffy man
with long hair rolled
down the passenger window and
asked us where we were heading.
T
he three of us were so pleased that someone had stopped and
we
told him our intended destination. His response was
,
“
W
ell
,
what are you waiting for
? H
op in.”
We squealed in delight at this good fortune, looked at each other
,
and all agreed to get in the car. We were thrilled at the pro
spect of sitting in a warm car to warm our hands and feet.
Mary and Sue hopped in
to the back, leaving me to climb
in the front, which I was not happy about one bit; however
,
I really did not have a choic
e. As I was putting on my seatbelt,
the stranger looked at me very
oddly
, and
a cold chill ran down my spine.
S
o
mething just did not feel right. I had the urge to
get out of the car and run,
and
every instinct
I had was urging me to just run,
but I didn’t.
The car pulled off and we all sat silently in the car.
“
Okay la
dies
,
who are you running away from
?
”
a
sked the strange man.
Mary and Sue let it all out and told him we had just run away from a chi
ldren’s home.
I sat there very quiet
ly
.
He said
,
“
O
h dear
,
well I won’t tell anyone
,
and
you are safe with me.
”
He leaned
ov
er me and pushed down the lock;
that’s when I noticed a large
S
tanley
knife next to the gear stick.
T
he obvi
ous question echoed in my mind,
Why would he have a knife in the front of his car?
He noticed that I was looking at the Stanley knife and must have read the concern on my face
.
“
Don’t
worry
,
I only keep it there just in case
,
”
t
he strange man said
with a laugh
.
The alarm bel
ls were ringing all around now.
Mary
,
Sue
,
and I knew we had to act fast or we
were going to be in big trouble.
I looked
back at them
and just looked at their doors
,
indicating to th
em we needed to make a run for it.
T
hey just nodded and understood what I was trying to communicate.
I looked at the man and
said,
“
W
ould you mind if I just went to the toilet
?
I’m bursting; I promise I will be quick
.
”
H
e was not too happy at having to stop the car and said it was not a good idea
.
I pleaded with him
,
trying not to show any concern at all, just smiling and maintaining an unconcerned look on my face. Eventually he agreed
to stop the car and let me out.
H
e reached across and unlocked the passeng
er door and told me to hurry up.
T
he minute I was out of the car
,
Mary and Sue piled out of the back seats
,
almost fall
ing over themselves to get away.
W
e ran like we had never r
un before. W
e jumped over some evergreen bushes into a farmer’s field and lay down on the
ground.
T
he red car circled the road surrounding the field several times, and just when we thought it was safe to get up
,
the car returned and stopped. He got out of th
e car and shouted in our direction.
W
e were petrified
, and
we all got
up and started running toward the farm. The
man got back in his car and before
we
knew it, all we could see of him were his
taillights
in the far distance.
As we approached the old farmhouse, the security lights came on and the front door to the house opened. A man and
woman stood there.
W
e ran up to them
,
wet and exhausted
,
telling them that a man was after us, pleading for them to help u
s. The farm owners were lovely,
and
they took us in, sat us all down by the fire, and kindly listened to our story. They t
hen called the police and while
we were waiting, the lovely couple made us
all
hot chocolate and warm bu
ttered toast—it was delicious!
We were so scared that we abandoned all thoughts of running away for now. We told the farmers that we had run away from the chi
ldren’s home several miles away.
T
hey knew whi
ch home we were talking about. A
pparently
,
it was well known in North Wales. The farmers called Bryn Tyn to let them know we were there a
nd that the police were on their
way following an incident. We had at last started to thaw out; my fingers were tingling because of the warmth coming from the open fire.
When the police arrived we were taken to the station and interviewed at length regard
ing
the man and the red car in the presence of a member of staff. It turned out that there was a nationwide hunt for a man with long hair in a red car fitting the description of the one who
had
picked us up, following
a murder of a young twelve-year-old girl,
the same age as me. He
was
last seen ten miles up the road near Mould, just before he picked us up. That night it was made very clear that we had had an exceptionally lucky escape. We could not believe it and were just thankful to be alive. The police informed us that they might require further help f
rom us in the future if it turned
out that the man in the red car was the same one they were hunting. Someone was definitely watching over us that day,
and the alternative outcome was
not worth thinking about. This was enough to put any future thoughts of a further escape from our minds.
On our return to Bryn Tyn
,
we had the telling off of our lives, and
we were
stripped of all basic rights. This was the middle of winter and back then it was common to have
sub-z
ero temperatures with snow up to your knees. We were giv
en our punishment: scrubs. This
was the punishment for runa
ways:
you were put
in a pair of shorts, a pair of P
limsolls without the laces
, and a t-shirt. That was
all you were allowed to wear every day for seven days. You had
your
meals alone and were n
ot allowed seconds, which
was the biggest punishmen
t of all!
For a week we would be shove
ling snow from the grounds wearing next to nothing, on a daily basis. They knew you would not try to run away wearing the clothes you had to live in for that week
,
as it was far to
o
cold; this was a big
part of the punishment. Toward
the end of our punishment week, I had caught the flu and spent the next
five
days in bed recovering. Had I learn
ed
my lesson? Well
,
yes, for the time being anyway!
A
nd all thoughts of running away had been put to the back of my mind.
Once I had recovered from the flu, I kept my head down for a while and decided to make the best of a very bad situation. I started my schooling w
ithin the confines of Bryn Tyn
with the determination to do the best I could
.
The
problem was the limited subject options; it was just basic teachings
,
which I had learn
ed
many years before. So instead, I lost myself in books, wrote poems in my journal
,
which I started when
I was just nine years old. I
decided to try harder at fitting in at Bry
n Tyn and
do the best possible. I made more friends
and life got a little easier for a while.
I was especially close to my key worker
,
Paul
,
who
would always listen to me whenever I felt down, picked on, or just needed someone to show that they cared. As more new hopeless children entered Bryn Tyn during the months that followed
,
I had established myself as one of the old residents.
There were always fights goi
ng on between groups of kids. Ther
e were various groups
within
Bryn Tyn and some
of which did not get on at all.
W
hen a fight broke out it was terrifying and someone always got badly hurt. The male members of staff were mostly well built and tall, probably in place to be able to deal with such situations and eventually got them un
der control when it suited them.
S
ome of them liked to watch the fighting for a few minutes before intervening.
Weekends were always quieter at the children’s home due to many children going home for authorized breaks to visit their families. The same few people remained at Bryn Tyn every weekend and during all the holidays
.
I was always one of them, Christmas included. I preferred Bryn Tyn during
these times because it was more fun. There
were fewer bullies around and generally life was so much easier
for the few of us that remained behind
. We were given special treats
,
like
days out in the signature blue-and-
white Bryn Tyn van.