It was while working for BBC‘s Newsnight that I first met Mohamed Al Fayed. The year was 1985 and he’d become the talk of the town after buying two great British institutions – the Dorchester Hotel and Harrods.
It would be some time before he would begin his battle for British citizenship, but his wealth and controversial way of doing business had made him a subject of political interest. I’ll never forget my visceral reaction to the man. I felt my flesh creep and couldn’t get away from him fast enough.
He hadn’t made a move or touched me but there was something about him. He was one of those men who look you up and down in the way a farmer would view a cow at a cattle market, thankfully turning away with a sniff of dismissal in my case.
All these years on, I am seething with fury at the news that Al Fayed, who died last year at the age of 94, allegedly raped and sexually assaulted women while they worked at Harrods. Lawyers representing the alleged sexual abuse victims say they have heard from more than 150 women.
Many of the stories date back to the 1980s – around the time I met him. No wonder my violent reaction against him.
It’s not the first time I’ve found myself incandescent at the number of girls and young women suffering at the hands of rich and wealthy men – men who get away with their appalling behaviour for years or, worse, die before facing justice. Like Jimmy Savile, Al Fayed never faced public disgrace or punishment in his lifetime.
I met both men – and Rolf Harris, too, who in his 80s was sent to prison for abusing young girls. In all three cases, they made my skin crawl long before I knew anything of their abuse of power.
Some have questioned why their victims took so long to come forward. But I know from my experience of being raped as a university student how hard it is to tell anyone. I was convinced no one would believe me and decided I must put it down to experience and make sure it never happened again. Maybe that’s why I have an effective radar for such men.
I was working in Southampton as a presenter on the TV programme South Today when I met Jimmy Savile in 1978. I was covering the Transplant Games and knew the kidney transplant surgeon who had created them – to highlight how fit and healthy patients with successful organ transplants could become.
‘Jenni, come and meet the star of our show,’ said the doctor. I was led over to Savile, who had come to open the games and was surrounded by excited nurses, competitors and their families.
I had no choice but to take the proffered hand. He insisted on having a chat, told me how respected I was by the surgeon and, even though at 28 I’m sure I was way too old for his taste, Savile invited me to dinner. Despite him being a massive star, I declined and moved away from him as fast as I could. He exuded a dangerous nastiness.
As for Rolf Harris, I interviewed him on Woman’s Hour. At the time I looked forward to it, yet as soon as I met him face-to-face, I sensed something was wrong. His bouncy friendliness felt false, and he rang danger bells. I could not stand the man.
The extent of the cruelty and sexually abusive behaviour of these three men was horrific. I have no doubt there were colleagues and managers in the BBC, Stoke Mandeville and Broadmoor hospitals, where Savile preyed on his victims, as well as Al Fayed’s Harrods, who knew or suspected what these men were up to but said nothing.
The BBC investigation into Al Fayed broadcast last week gathered evidence that Harrods not only failed to intervene, but helped cover up abuse allegations. The store’s current owners said they were ‘utterly appalled’ by the allegations and that his victims had been failed – and issued an apology.
As for the many victims, I fully understand why they were seduced into believing no harm would come to them from such a well-known man. Al Fayed would tour Harrods to identify young female assistants he found attractive, who would then be promoted to work in his offices upstairs. Who wouldn’t leap at such a chance for career advancement?
Gifts of £500 cash, presents of jewellery, offers to become a PA and spend time in a palatial Park Lane apartment or trips to Paris to stay in a palace once owned by a former King must have seemed wildly exciting to a girl in her 20s.
While I fully understand why so few of the young women found the courage to report what had happened to them – he was litigious and fabulously rich – I find it appalling that he must have been protected by numerous employees who valued their own jobs too highly to do anything.
Two young women who did try to use the law to stop him were failed by the Crown Prosecution Service who could not find enough evidence to charge him.
Of course it’s too late to punish Al Fayed but those in positions of power who turned a blind eye must be exposed and punished.
I’m sure there are other seemingly untouchable sexual predators who continue to get away with it. We must protect and believe young women who report abuse and maybe we should all develop a radar like mine. If a man is rich, charming and famous, he might not be as safe as he’d like you to believe.
Like Mariella, I’ll drive next time!
Poor Mariella Frostrup. She splashed out on a first-class Great Western Railway ticket from Tiverton to Paddington so packed she had to spend the two-hour journey sitting on the floor by the toilets.
Clearly nothing has changed since 40 years ago, when I began my West Coastline journeys on Sundays from my home near Macclesfield to London, where I worked. I sat on the floor many times. In October I have to go to Cornwall for the AGM of my charity Refuge4Pets. I shall be driving, which I think is Mariella’s plan for the future.
Rugby is not a game for the young
I spent hours of my life standing on the touchline watching my teenage son play rugby with my heart in my mouth. Luckily there was never a serious injury, but we all know of horror stories.
Almost 300 former rugby players are in the middle of a landmark legal battle against World Rugby, the RFU and the Welsh Rugby Union for allegedly failing to protect them against brain injury.
This offers no comfort to the parents of a child who loves the game. My son will never forgive me for saying it, but young spines and brains are too precious to risk over a game.
I know councils are short of cash, but do they have to make money by fining people who innocently put stuff out on the pavement for others to take? I once put out a load of shoes which disappeared within 24 hours. It’s not fly tipping, as councils claim, it’s free-cycling.
It’s children who suffer if mothers are in prison
At last, a government minister talking my language on the subject of women and prison. The Justice Secretary, Shabana Mahmood, told the Labour Party conference she will cut the women’s prison population.
It’s pretty much what Baroness Corston said in her report in 2007 and what I’ve said after my experience of seeing women and their children broken by sentences for relatively minor non-violent crimes. I can’t go along with Mahmood’s ambition to close all female jails. Some provision must be retained to house those women who are dangerous and violent, reckoned to be around a third of those currently incarcerated. But for those convicted of minor crimes, prison is not the answer.
Even a short sentence often means children lose their mother and their home.
