As the case against the late TV presenter, Jimmy Savile, continues with more and more victims coming forward to claim that they were abused by the former Jim’ll Fix It star, a member of his own family has joined the sickeningly long list.
A recent Channel 4 Exposure documentary brought the alleged paedophilic antics of Savile to light, with several witnesses and victims interviewed claiming that the TV personality had been taking advantage of young girls whilst using his position both at the BBC and as a volunteer porter at local children’s hospitals.
Since then more and more victims have come out of the woodwork to claim that they were abused at the hands of the former Top Of The Pops presenter, including the granddaughter of his own sister, according to the Daily Mail newspaper!
Caroline Robinson recalls suffering severe nightmares about her great uncle, who she says reeked of stale cigar smoke.
“When I was younger I had flashbacks,” she says. “They invaded my dreams. I re-lived everything that happened to me in slow motion. I’d wake up sweating. I saw the whole scene as if I was a detached observer looking down on it, and the worst thing is I couldn’t make it stop. I’d shout but the words wouldn’t come out — and even now the smell of cigar smoke makes my flesh crawl.”
Caroline, now 49, endured the abuse of her great uncle, aged just only 12, but can still remember vivid details of being sexually abused twice at the hands of Savile.
Most disturbing of all is her revelation that her family knew what was happening to her including her grandmother Marjorie Marsden, Savile’s elder sister who was also well aware he was a prolific and predatory paedophile, but that Savile’s secret was kept silent by his family, by payment..
“Uncle Jimmy gave Marjorie everything she wanted,” says Caroline. “She was interested in Egyptology, so he bought her a house on the Nile. When she divorced, he paid for the best lawyer. He paid for her to live in a smart BUPA care home near his flat in Roundhay Park in Leeds just before she died in 2006.
“She had private medical insurance and a cottage in Llandudno, courtesy of Jimmy; he bought her a caravan on the coast there. If Marjorie had blabbed, Jimmy would have had nothing. No fame, no money. In fact, he’d have been in jail. And Marjorie would have had nothing, too.
“What Jimmy did to me was terrible. But the most unsettling thing of all is that Grandmamma, whom I loved dearly, knew exactly what was going on and she kept her mouth shut because Jimmy paid for her silence. She always referred to him as her “next of kin”. The camp that has closed ranks and kept silent about all this are those who have benefited financially from him.”
Caroline commented: “I think there are thousands of people out there who were abused as boys or girls by my great uncle Jimmy,
“Most of his victims were innocents and vulnerable. That’s why he went to hospitals and children’s homes. I don’t think he had a preference for boys or girls, but he did have a cut-off point: he preferred them under 15.
“He was absolutely brazen. I believe he found it sexually gratifying to take risks. The thrill for him came in evading detection by the skin of his teeth.”
Caroline recalls that her friends, as well as her all wanted to meet Jimmy, but that her grandmother, Marjorie, always insisted Jimmy was a busy man and shouldn’t be pestered with requests to visit, but on one occasion her mother had persuaded him to pop by.
“I wanted so much to see my favourite group, The Bay City Rollers,” she says. “I was hoping Jimmy would fix it for me to meet them. He came into our sitting room, wearing his usual shell-suit and vest, smoking a cigar. The smell of cigar smoke permeated him. He kissed my hand. It was his trademark greeting and I remember feeling ten feet tall.”
However, this first fond memory soon turned sinister:
“Jimmy patted his knee because he wanted me to sit there, which I did. He placed me very deliberately in the centre of his lap. He then said: “And what can I do for you?” I told him I’d like to see the Bay City Rollers. He was speaking quietly so I had to tilt my head to his face to hear him.
“I was innocent, unaware of the facts of life, and I remember thinking, “There’s something hard in his trousers”. I wriggled because I was trying to get free, but now I realise that aroused him more.
“I remember feeling his hands rubbing my back. It wasn’t an innocent stroke or brush of the hand — he was pressing his fingers into my back and down my spine until they reached my knickers.
“Then he pushed them under the elastic and rested them on my buttocks. There was a family joke that Jimmy never wore underpants under his tracksuit. He used to say: “Well you never know what might happen.” Much later, of course, I realised why.
“The extraordinary thing is the room was full, but no one seemed to notice what he was doing. When I look back, I wonder if he was so practised at that sort of furtive abuse, that nobody realised what was going on. But my grandma was sitting opposite us. She must have seen, but she didn’t intervene.
“I knew it felt uncomfortable, wrong. I pulled away and said I wanted to go to the toilet. Then I went into my bedroom and burst into tears. I remember thinking: “I can’t tell Mum and Dad because they won’t believe Uncle Jimmy would do that.”
“Later Grandmamma asked me why I’d been crying. I said: “Uncle Jimmy put his hand in my knickers.” She told me not to be silly. Then I said: “He touched my bottom,” and she said: “Jimmy doesn’t mean anything by it.” So she knew.
“She said: “I’ll have a talk to Jimmy.” Not another word was said after that. She was the head of the household.”