Things changed after Savile died.

On 04 October 2012, ITV broadcast a documentary the other side of Jimmy Savile, that alleged he sexually assaulted young girls in his BBC dressing room and in his car. Some five women came forward claiming sexual assault and rape in the 1960’s and 1970’s.

Suddenly it was clear to me that I (and the girl in the car) were not his only victims, I may be able to tell my story now with a greater chance that I would be believed.

Shortly after, news broke that Savile’s headstone was to be removed, 24-hour news channels ran the story every 25 minutes for several days, they showed footage of the gigantic black triple tombstone with gold lettering.

I could see clearly that the stone contained the statement “It Was Good While It Lasted”. This incensed me, and at the earliest opportunity, I drove to a nearby police station to tell my story.

At that time, unknown to me, the ITV documentary and the 24-hour news coverage spurred hundreds of people to come forward to report abuse spanning several decades. I arrived at the police station on Friday 12 October 2012, at that moment as far as I knew, I was the only male complainant.

Arriving at the police station around 8:00PM, I waited for ages at the front desk to see an officer, I explained briefly that I had been a victim of Savile and wished to make a statement. I was led into an interview room usually used for interrogating criminals, an exceptionally large officer walked into the room with some paper and a pen, he was dressed in full police Friday night drunk riot management uniform, complete with stab vest, high visibility vest, utility belt with handcuffs, etc. mobile phone in a chest pocket, police radio with handset attached above the phone, and high visibility cap. He looked like he had prepared to be working in the city centre Friday night drunk squad but had been redirected to interview me without changing.

Immediately my worst fears were realised, the size of this officer and his attire were intimidating, he his demeanour was more, why are you wasting my time, than sympathetic, he did not have the curtesy to switch off his radio or phone and he was not prepared to record the meeting, hardly using the paper and pen.

I almost did not give an interview. However, he assured me the police were currently dealing with statements from hundreds of victims of Savile, that the case was so large now that the Met police had taken overall control and that I should continue.

I told the officer about meeting Savile in the Leeds General Infirmary; I was able to relate most of the story about the first and second meetings with Savile and about my later hot water bottle searches in my sister’s bed.

During the interview, the officer’s radio and mobile phone continuously interrupted meaning I had to stop talking and listen to the officer talk on the radio/phone, as a result parts of my story were told out of sequence and parts were forgotten, the effort of finally telling my story to the police was so great that I was pale, shaking and for some parts in tears, however I was offered no comfort whatsoever, noy even a glass of water.

After one longer than average radio interruption making it obvious this officer oversaw a team on active operations at the same time as hearing my witness statement, the officer then started to ask me more details about my seeking out Savile for a second time, he was interested in the girl in the car, he wanted to know details, age, race, clothes, colour of clothes etc. He also wanted to know in detail about my sister, what age was she when this occurred and intimate details.

Suddenly the interview had changed from me volunteering a witness statement, to an interrogation into my having admitted asexually assaulting an underage girl,  then seeking out Savile for more, repeating the assault and incestuous acts with my sister.

In the middle of the interrogation, another more senior officer in plain clothes suddenly walked into the room and sat down. He must have been listening to the interview. He wanted to ask more probing questions about the girl, how much had I enjoyed touching her, did I or Savile have penetrative or oral sex with her, did I know how to contact her, why had I wanted to meet her again with Savile, did I know at the time it was wrong and did I know I was committing an offence.

He then started along a different line, victims of sexual abuse, he claimed, are normally ashamed and hurt by their abusers, they do not enjoy the abuse and do not seek out more etc.

He also wanted much greater detail about my sister, ages, dates, times, did I touch her and much more.

I was no longer listening fully, I started to feel that I was the monster here rather than the victim, the girl would not have suffered another assault, had I not sought out Savile for a second encounter, and I wished I had never mentioned my sister, this was distracting the police and they were now interviewing me as the abuser.

I had dug myself into a hole now, so I stopped digging and clammed up. I chose not to talk about the third encounter with Savile and the dead woman, or the physical injury I had suffered at his hand.

The plain clothes officer prodded and pushed for more detail, his voice was raised in frustration and anger at the lack of detail I was providing, despite the occurrences happening over forty years earlier. He was saying things like “are you sure you have told us everything” and “failure to include any details could be deemed as obstructing our enquiry” and “you should tell us the full story to ensure we can treat your statement correctly and ascertain any criminality disclosed” and “you are aware that incest is a crime”.

During all the above questioning, the first officers’ radio and phone continued to interrupt, however the plain clothed officer just kept talking through the distracting interruptions.

The plain clothed officer then took over and the large officer in full Friday night drunk squad riot gear left the room. I noticed that he had only written about twenty words on the pad he was using to record the interview now in its third hour, my name, address, phone number and email address along with the word’s “girl”, “sister” and “underage” which were circled. The remaining officer now calmed down and started to discuss what would happen next.

The case had been taken over by the Met police who he said would contact me in due course to take a formal statement and consider what I had said, I was now convinced I was to be arrested for the two assaults I had admitted to with the fifteen-year-old girl and for the admission of looking at my sister.

The interview terminated and the officer unlocked the door to the front desk area, the officer reminded me to expect to hear from the Met police and I left.

I was now in a state of considerable concern and fear, my family were totally unaware I had been a victim, yet the Met police were likely now to call at my home for more information or arrive unannounced to arrest me.

I think readers will agree, this was not the way to conduct an interview with a vulnerable abuse victim volunteering to give a statement after over forty years.

I was not offered a drink, a comfortable environment in which to make a statement, counselling or even comfort and was left traumatised having provided an incomplete statement despite the threats made to force me to tell everything.

That evening I could not sleep, so I used the time to write down everything I could recollect telling the police in the interview, simply to create a record of the meeting, which as far as I could tell, the west Yorkshire police had not done.