December 1997 My stepdad sexually abused me for 14 yrs .. I hope my story will help other victims be brave enough to speak out Kelly is an attractive confident young woman with her life in front of her. She is studying hard to qualify in computing. But to get this far today, she has had to overcome the memory of her harrowing yesterdays – 14 years of sexual abuse at the hands of her perverted stepfather.  Evil Kenneth Lines, 39, who had raped, degraded and humiliated her since she was four, was jailed for 13 years. Now, nearly a year on, Kelly is strong enough to tell her disturbing story  She hopes it will give other victims the courage to speak out  I Hardly remember when it began, because I was only four. My real dad had left us.  He and Mum got married when they were teenagers, and I think they were just too young.  My mum met Ken, and he moved in with us. My younger brother was two then.  I was a friendly child, and the first time I met Ken, I climbed on to his knee and asked him if he was Mummy’s friend.  He was wearing an open-neck shirt and I pulled at the hairs on his chest. I remember Mum telling me not to, but he said it was all right.  We lived in a flat on an estate in Surrey. We weren’t well off, but we didn’t go short. Mum was very sociable and had lots of friends until Ken moved in.  The first night it happened, I was four years and six months old. My brother and I had bunk beds and I was on the top.  Ken told me to come into the living-room. I have no idea where Mum was that night. He made me take off my nightie and I remember lying over the back of our couch, looking at the brown and white striped pattern.  I didn’t really understand what had happened to me. All I knew was I didn’t like it and it was happening at least twice a week.  At nursery one day, we were told to sit down on these red seats and I said I couldn’t because I was sore.  They asked me why and I didn’t say anything, because Ken had told me not to. It was our little secret.  But then a teacher asked me if Daddy played with me and I said Yes. I was taken for all these examinations and the police and social services were informed.  They went to see Ken, and in the end they said it was my overactive imagination.  I remember coming home after all this and Ken had his head in his hands and he was crying. He told me off and said I shouldn’t have told anyone because it was our secret.  And it carried on. He told me not to tell anyone again, and I didn’t – apart from my little brother, and what could he do?  He and my mum married when I was six, the year he took my virginity. I was used to abuse by then. Sometimes he told me: “I will tell Mum if you don’t do this.”  I was scared of Mum finding out. She knew nothing about it. I don’t know why I kept silent – maybe I thought it was my fault. But part of me wanted to protect her. I didn’t want her to know what he was really like.  Everyone else just thought I was his favourite. He would sit next to me and cuddle me all the time. Mum thought his devotion to me was like any other dad.  Sometimes he abused me when she was in the room, but she never knew.  He would push me onto my side on the couch and make sure we were covered with a rug. Mum would be watching telly and never noticed anything.  I was having a terrible time at school. I had dyslexia and learning difficulties. As a result, I was bullied.  Social services visited me three times over three years, but I didn’t tell. I felt no one believed me the first time and they still wouldn’t.  I dreaded Sundays more than any day, because Mum was often out, and he had sex with me whenever and wherever he could.  His birthdays were horrible days, too. It was his treat to have sex with me. I blotted it out. I made my mind go blank and mentally scrunched myself up into a ball and clenched my fists.  When I started at secondary school, he made me wear my mum’s underwear.  One day, I wore stockings and suspenders to school. When I undressed for PE, all the girls laughed at me.  Ken controlled us all. He and Mum argued a lot about money. He had a nasty temper and hit my brother if he didn’t behave.  He drilled a hole in the attic above my bedroom so he could watch me.  He even forced me to have sex with one of his friends, Barry Talbot, while he watched. I was about 12 when I really realised that what he was doing was wrong. But I felt so helpless.  I screamed at him sometimes – but Mum thought it was normal adolescent stuff. I still don’t know why I didn’t tell her.  Ken had threatened to kill me if I told, but it was more than that. He made me feel dirty – as though it was my fault.  When I was 17, an older boy I liked called for me. Ken wouldn’t let me out – then had sex with me.  I phoned the boy next day and spoke to his mum. She just said to me: “Have you told your mum he hits you?”  I said he didn’t and she said: “Is it sexual abuse?” I broke down and started crying. She came round to where I worked at the hairdresser’s, and they helped me go to the police. I was interviewed for hours and examined. Ken was arrested next morning. I had still not spoken to my mum, and I went to the house. She was crying and saying: “Why didn’t you tell me?”  The day he was jailed, I had such a feeling of freedom.  I don’t blame Mum, but I am angry with social services, because they are supposed to be trained to see the signs.  It Upsets me that Mum keeps in touch and visits Ken. She doesn’t seem to understand the effect it has had on me.  He is still in my life and still controlling it. I don’t know what will happen when he comes out.  I’m working hard at college so I can get a good job and get away.  I want my life back. I want to have a decent husband and children.  And I will give them so much love and put them before anything and anyone else.