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'I was only five when I was approached by a paedophile.'

When I was five, I had an encounter on a plane with a man who staff believed was a paedophile.

Trigger warning: This post deals with an encounter with a suspected paedophile and may be distressing for some readers.

After a week of holidaying in Queensland — a blur of movies, pool-time and tiny toys from the 20 cent vending machine at the corner store — my nanna and poppa put me on a plane to fly home to Melbourne.

Grace, age 5.

As a small unaccompanied traveller, I had a little cartoonish “flying solo” tag pinned to my grubby grey tee shirt, signalling to the attendants that I needed to be kept an eye on.

I shuffled onto the plane, a red-cheeked tomboy of a kid with a mass of white curls, and buckled myself in with the help of a stewardess. Then, moments before we took off, a man with a ginger beard changed seats and moved to sit next to me.

 

The air attendants registered the unusual move but didn’t have time to move him while the plane was taking off. Their alarm heightened when the red-bearded man started to talk to me in a soft voice.

They couldn’t hear what he was saying, and I can’t remember many of the words.

I only remember him asking my name, then peering closely at the little tag on my chest, flipping it over, producing a pen and writing down the personal details recorded there.

 

He didn’t touch me. He didn’t get a chance, even if that was his intention: When the hostesses saw him take a note of the details, they confronted the man, moved him to another section of the aircraft, and raised the alarm.

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When the plane touched down, a couple of police officers met the disembarking passengers at the gate and asked the man a few perfunctory questions. They couldn’t detain him. They couldn’t arrest him. They had to let him go.

Related content: Paedophiles are importing life-like child sex dolls – and the law can do nothing.

All they had to go on was a conversation with a girl — a small, relatively unconcerned child who was more excited to see her parents than she was about the funny old man who’d whispered at her in a quiet, friendly way when he didn’t think the adults were looking.

Grace today.

My parents worried for weeks.

These were the days of notorious rapist Mr Cruel; girls and young women were going missing from their family homes at night, survivors detailing horror stories of being shackled to beds.

Two of Mr Cruel’s survivors detailed being held for weeks in a room, blindfolded, hearing planes overhead. Authorities still believe the perpetrator’s home was somewhere under a flight path to Tullamarine airport.

The  identity of Mr Cruel, who is believed to have bathed his victims carefully before releasing them, remains unknown.

 

For a week after my strange encounter with the mysterious red-bearded man, my sisters and I all slept in my parent’s room. Dad checked the locks on the windows of our Victorian home. My parents hired a private investigator.

We discovered the man had paid for his plane ticket in cash. We discovered he had booked using a fake name.

Every lead came up a dead end. We never found out who he was.

If you or anyone you know has been the victim of a sexual assault. Help is available. Call the National Sexual Assault, Domestic, Family Violence Counselling Service 24/7 on  1800 737 732. Bravehearts are another organisation that help the victims of child sex abuse. You can find more information about them here.
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