Ben (37 page)

And then there’s the person I’m most proud of in the whole world. My beautiful daughter, Leighanna. She’s nineteen now, and building her own career. She has plans and ambitions, and I know she’ll achieve them because she’s already achieved the impossible, growing up so amazingly in such an unusual environment.

In a way, her suffering has been worse than any of ours because at least the rest of us got to spend nearly two precious years with Ben before he was taken. Mum, Dad, Stephen, Danny and I will always have those memories. They are what drives us every day.

Leighanna only has a void. She feels the pain we feel without anything to soften the blow. I couldn’t be more proud of the way she copes. At school, she put up with all kinds of wicked insults – some of it just playground stuff, but hurtful anyway – and she handled it all better than I could have done. She can give as good as she gets, but she also knows when to turn the other cheek. I could probably learn a lesson or two from her!

But what’s most impressive about Leighanna is that for years she grew up carrying a secret I only learnt a couple of years ago. We were enjoying a mother and daughter night on the sofa, having a laugh, reminiscing and catching up with each other’s lives when she came out with it. Nine words that couldn’t have hurt me more if she’d tried:

‘I always thought you loved Ben more than me.’

That was a knife in the heart. At nineteen, Leighanna knows that was never the case. But, growing up, she admits to feeling second best, to living in her brother’s shadow. Not all the time, admittedly – but as her mother, it destroys me to think she felt it even for
one
second.

I thought I was doing the right thing by keeping her involved; that’s why she came on sightings when she was young. I didn’t want her to feel on the outside of a club that Mum, Dad, Stephen, Danny and I belonged to. The search for Ben has been my job for more than twenty years. Of course I spend a lot of time talking about him, investigating leads, plotting the next step. I have to.
But I’ve always done it with Leighanna at my side, and she knows I’d do exactly the same if Ben were here and she weren’t.

It’s great credit to my daughter that she never blamed me for the way she felt. For her, it was just one of those things. But not for me. I’ve thought about it every day since and I’ve tried my damnedest to put it right. If I’m honest, there have been moments when I’ve had to remind myself that Leighanna is the one who needs me now. She’s the one here, the one with the boyfriend troubles, the fashion crises, the crucial teenage-girl anxieties that need addressing immediately. Whatever I’m doing for Ben can wait a couple of minutes. His sister’s feelings have to come first.

And, she knows that. Which is why it is only with her blessing that I can take the next step forward in my life. And, being the grounded, mature, wonderful person she is, she’s given that blessing.

In September 2012, my brother Danny was approached by a Turkish businessman about forming an entertainment club in my favourite town over there, with his Elvis act being the main draw. I often think about following him out there. My marriage to Craig sadly ended in 2011, so I have no strings holding me back other than Leighanna. And, as she says, ‘You’d only a phone call away.’

Turkey does feel like my spiritual home. Perhaps it was always waiting for me, or maybe it was just the right place at the right time. Maybe Kerry Needham at seventeen would have been bored there? Maybe ten years ago I’d have felt the village was holding me back? All I know is that after a lifetime of growing up, much of it in the public eye, it’s exactly what I need now. I don’t have to put on a front there. I can just be me. And that’s something else that is new to me. Maybe one day, I will be able to find peace there but only time will tell.

Perhaps its proximity to Kos is one of the unseen pulls of the place? Perhaps, subconsciously, I plan to look to the west and prepare for the day Ben is found?

I also know the reality. That my baby might not remember me. That he probably won’t want to give up his new life to come back to us permanently. He’s a man now. Despite how I remember him, giggling or waddling, or dipping bread soldiers in runny eggs – he might even have a young family of his own. He might have his own responsibilities he can’t let go.

It doesn’t matter. The only thing that counts is that he is found and he knows he is loved and that he has always been loved and that we have never, ever given up our search. What happens from there is up to him.

Ten years ago, I could not have contemplated anything other than Ben running back into my arms. Now I accept it could be a slower process, possibly a hard one for both of us. But I do know that whatever it takes, I am ready. I’ve waited too long to get it wrong now. Whatever Ben wants, whatever Ben needs, I am there. And not
if
he is found.

When
.

Me at eight months old.

With Stephen, Christmas 1977.

The day we arrived at our caravan to start a new life in Chapel St Leonards.
Left to right
: Stephen, Dad, Mum and Danny.

Ben on the day he was born, 29 October 1989.

Ben in a sand pit at the boating lake in Chapel St Leonards.

Ben’s first drink through a straw.

Crawling on the beach in Chapel at eight months old.

Ben sleeping at his nanny’s house.

Loving bath time.