ViaMedia

Tag: David Tudor

  • Safeguarding: How Can We “Learn Lessons” From the Read Sisters’ Case?

    by Professor Helen King, lay member of General Synod, Oxford Diocese


    When, in July 2025, the details of Revd Anne-Marie Ghosh’s emotional and physical abuse by her former husband were published by a Bishop’s Disciplinary Tribunal, the Church Times (8 August 2025) reported that a spokesperson for the diocese involved – Coventry – had said “The diocese acknowledges that there are learning points.” The Tribunal had observed “We trust lessons will be learned” (paragraph 51). It is a disturbing case because Ghosh – the adult victim – was the one who had a CDM brought against her, a CDM which this Tribunal dismissed.

    “Lessons will be learned” – four words, but do they mean anything? Here I want to ask a question: how is the wider church supposed to learn these lessons, if reviews are not made public?

    The Read sisters: asking a question

    A month before the details of the Ghosh tribunal were published, I had become aware of the case of the Read sisters. This broke in a 17 June story on the BBC news site and was followed up by the Church Times on 20 June. A Lessons Learned Review (LLR) had been carried out into the abuse they suffered as children in the 1950s and 1960s from a group formed of their GP father, a female Sunday School teacher (later to become a churchwarden) and the curate (later to become a canon). The father, Robert (Bob) Read died in 1996, and the Sunday School teacher, named in the Church Times as Mary Wairing, in 2015. The then-curate is still alive.

    The Read sisters’ case disturbed me, not least because it was clearly stated in reports that the LLR would not be published. I therefore submitted the following Question to the July 2025 Synod:

    On 17 June the BBC and then the Church Times reported on the production of a safeguarding Lessons Learned Review into the allegations of abuse as young children of Jenny, Wendy and Christina Read by their father, a female Sunday School teacher and a male curate at a church in the Northeast. The father and the Sunday School teacher had a sexual relationship. The Church Times reported that as part of the Terms of Reference, the LLR would not be published. In view of the grave seriousness of the alleged sexual offences involved, which were reported to three bishops, and in view of the fact that the victims have waived their right to anonymity, how will the learning from this Lessons Learned Review now be taken forward to inform safeguarding practice?

    The Bishop of Stepney replied in her role as Lead Bishop for Safeguarding:

    The report was commissioned by the Diocese concerned, with terms of reference designed to consider how that Diocese may learn lessons in relation to its practice in responding to this case, and the appropriateness of responses by anyone to whom allegations and concerns were raised within the Diocese. The reviewer provided the Diocese with five recommendations / areas of learning. As is the norm, the Diocese has responded to these recommendations and, with oversight from its DSAP (Diocesan Safeguarding Advisory Panel) has already implemented steps which will help inform safeguarding practice. (my emphasis added)

    Given that numerous other LLRs commissioned by dioceses have been made public to benefit learning throughout the whole church, such as the LLR into the tragic events in Stowe and Maids Moreton in my own diocese – Oxford – why restrict the Read Sisters LLR to a few individuals in York Diocese? As people move between dioceses, should any review be restricted to one diocese?

    It was not, in fact, the Terms of Reference that restricted the LLR to York Diocese; after the sisters themselves repeatedly asked for the reason, the mysterious answer was given that “more than one complainant” had requested it not be shared internally or externally.

    One of the sisters, Jenny Heimerdinger, was at the York Synod in July but I was not aware of this until I returned home; she subsequently made contact and we have spoken on Zoom. She also brought to my attention the interviews in which the sisters had been involved, on BBC Look North, from 17 June 2025 and 18 June 2025, and on ITN News at 10 on 14 July 2025.

     

    Reporting abuse: from bishops to reviews

    The three Read sisters had another three surviving siblings and the family, with the other abusers, formed a very close-knit group, functioning almost as a sect in which Jenny and her siblings were kept apart from secular influences such as pop music and were discouraged from forming any friendships outside the family and church. The abuse was ritualistic and sadistic, and some of it took place in the church building. The sisters reported the abuse to a bishop in 1993, and to the then-Archbishop of Canterbury as well as another bishop in 2003; and to a third bishop in 2005. The third bishop presided over the diocese in which the former curate, by this time retired and with PTO, was then living. The abuse was also reported to IICSA in 2019 and the former curate was arrested in 2020 but no action was taken by the police due to insufficient evidence. One of the sisters was then put in touch with the York safeguarding team and funding for psychotherapy was arranged by them and has subsequently been partially provided under the national Interim Support Scheme. The York team advised the sisters to make Subject Access Requests to the various dioceses involved; the results indicate that no action was ever taken or any record made of their complaints in the former curate’s files.

    Following an internal and ineffectual Lessons Learned Review by the diocese where the former curate was living, York commissioned a further independent Lessons Learned Review in 2021, which was released to the sisters in October 2024. The reviewer appointed by York, Simon Bass, appears to be a sole operator trading as Church Safeguarding Consultancy (CSC) and, although he previously worked at Churches’ Child Protection Advisory Service (CCPAS, now rebranded as Thirtyone:eight), there is no evidence that he had carried out any other independent reviews; the CSC website only states that the company has “undertaken several such reviews”. As a company CSC is, according to Companies House, now “dissolved” as a result of compulsory strike-off, the result of failing to fulfil its legal obligations, though the CSC website continues to be active. In 2016-17, when he set up CSC, Bass was also the independent chair of Blackburn Diocese’s Safeguarding Management Group, and he was one of the project team members for their Past Cases Review 2 in 2021. I wonder if this constitutes a conflict of interest.

    Commissioned from Bass in 2021, the York LLR was dated October 2023 so it is not clear why its release was delayed until a year later; did someone mentioned anonymously in it cause the delay? When one of the Read sisters met the Archbishop of York in January 2025, at that point he had not been given the LLR for reasons of “data protection”. When the other sisters met him in May, he had been allowed to see it at their insistence. He has given a formal apology for the abuse, though not for the mishandling of their case.

    The sisters are unimpressed by the report; its factual errors, its many typos, and its significant redactions including the removal of around 10% of the paragraphs make it incomprehensible in large measure. On these shortcomings, two sisters entered the complaint procedure which, following what seems to be questionable interference by HR, has now been stuck at Stage 3 since April 2025. Meanwhile, they themselves have given permission for the LLR to be shared.

     

    Taking it to the national team

    After the July 2025 Synod, on 12 August I wrote to the Lead Bishop for Safeguarding, Bishop Joanne Grenfell, to follow up on her answer to my question. I commented that at that stage, “I have resisted writing anything public about this case but the basic point, that an LLR can be carried out without any sharing of the ‘lessons’ beyond a small circle, does seem something that should be shared.”

    Bishop Joanne asked Julie O’Hara to respond, as Deputy Director for Learning and Development in the National Safeguarding Team; in her previous post, Julie was the lead Diocesan Safeguarding Advisor for York at the time when the Terms of Reference for the Read LLR review were drawn up.  She had accepted the sisters’ factual corrections to the initial draft of the Terms of Reference – but the Report shows that the original faulty ToRs were used. Following Bishop Joanne’s intervention, Julie and the national Director of Safeguarding, Alex Kubeyinje, replied very quickly. Their combined response was that LLRs/SPRs “should be published” but not if there were “challenges in sharing the full report due to potential identification of individuals”. In such cases an executive summary could be shared.

    Does this apply to the Read sisters’ LLR? In the LLR, the identity of the curate is not given, apparently for legal reasons; and it states that no other allegations against him were ever made. But this contradicts information given to the sisters and, as the case of David Tudor shows, identifying an abuser by name can lead to other victims and survivors being empowered to come forward. The abuser of the sisters is known to have gone to work in N. Rhodesia/Zambia immediately following his involvement with the children; in view of John Smyth’s move to Africa, with support and funding from some Church of England priests, this deserves more attention.

    The combined response from senior officers of the NST continued:

    In some cases, it seems that only the recommendations from a review are shared. In such cases, as you have identified, it can be difficult to understand the rationale and indeed there are various reasons why a full review might not be published. These can include the wishes of victims and survivors, or situations where the reviewer did not follow the agreed terms of reference, making wider sharing inappropriate. When the NST has not commissioned the review, NST colleagues may also not have full visibility into the decision-making process around publication.

    They concluded that only the commissioning diocese could comment. But we know that the three sisters wish the LLR to be shared.

     

    Keeping it local: what makes a case ‘national’?

    The lack of sharing does seem very odd. Lessons Learned Reviews (LLR) have now been renamed Safeguarding Practice Reviews (SPR) but the whole point of them remains to identify how the church, as a national body, can stop making the same mistakes. But that, of course, depends on how and with whom their findings and recommendations are shared.

    In this case, no part of the Read sisters’ LLR was shared even with the NST until one of them sent it to them in summer 2025. The response to me from Bishop Joanne and the senior NST members also stated that “The case you refer to was never seen as a national case”[1]. Why not? With three bishops and an Archbishop involved and an alleged abuser moving around the country and, indeed, overseas, it seems to be far more than a diocesan matter. Although the Terms of Reference of the Read sisters’ LLR did indeed state that the review was only about those within York Diocese to whom “allegations and concerns” had been raised, this did not rule out York sharing information with other dioceses and explicitly stated that information was to be shared with the chair of DSAP, NST and local safeguarding bodies – which did not automatically happen.

    The Read sisters’ LLR itself says “it is recognised that other dioceses hold material”. There were discussions in 2021 about York doing a joint review with the diocese where the former curate was living, but they declined. Here again it is worth comparing this situation with an ongoing case, that of abuse by David Tudor, where a review has been “jointly commissioned by the National Safeguarding Team, and the dioceses of Chelmsford and Southwark”.

    Furthermore, the letter I received from Bishop Joanne stated that NST “does require all completed reports to be shared with them and will see this one”. So, while it can’t be published and was commissioned by a diocese and not by the NST, NST “sees” it. Sees it and then what…? The senior members of the NST ended their letter to me by referring to the ongoing thematic review of the last five years [2] of LLRs, noting “we are hopeful that the themes will be learning that we can share publicly”. That leaves me asking: whyever would they not be?

     

    [1] Bishop Joanne, in giving me permission to quote or share her reply, noted that the definition of a “national” case needs work.

    [2] I would be interested to know precisely what dates are to be covered by this review.

  • Which Focus: Harmful Systems and Cultures or People Within Them?

    by Savitri Hensman, author of  “Sexuality, Struggle and Saintliness” and LGBTI+ equality activist, writer and involvement coordinator

    The Church of England is facing a storm of unwelcome publicity, with several senior clergy in the headlines, against a backdrop of internal tensions over various issues. This led to the resignation of Bishop of Liverpool John Perumbalath, after Channel 4 aired a concerning, if sometimes inaccurate, news item on allegations of sexual impropriety by two women against him; allegations which he denies.

    One of these women has identified herself as the Bishop of Warrington, Bev Mason. Stephen Cottrell, Archbishop of York, was accused of covering this up and there have also been renewed calls by some for him to resign, though others believe he did what he could, within the limits of his powers, to try to get concerns addressed. However church rules, enforced by a judge, meant that Bishop Bev’s claim could not be properly dealt with because it was deemed out of time. So neither she nor Bishop John was able to have their take on what took place properly considered, an unsatisfactory situation for both.

    The Charity Commission weighed in, reminding Church of England leaders of their safeguarding responsibilities and writing to General Synod members and bishops, in the run-up to a February session which is likely to be tense. Other news reports claim that a handful of retired clergy now deemed no or low risk still have permission to officiate at services despite safeguarding plans which restrict their contact with children. This ties in with earlier dismay that, in the diocese of Chelmsford, where Stephen Cottrell had been bishop, a priest barred from being alone with children, David Tudor, had nevertheless been allowed to remain as an area dean and made an honorary canon. After another abuse report he was removed, yet this also highlighted the role of professional advice which earlier warned against removing his titles.

    This has been an extremely difficult time for those most affected, as well as others for whom one or another aspect has resonated painfully with their own experience. It has also been saddening and sometimes bewildering for many in the Diocese of Liverpool and others of us who know one or more of the people concerned. I am hesitant to add to this by writing on this topic, which may leave people with different perspectives, but whom I care about, feeling hurt. Less importantly, I am also aware that, by taking a different view from that of Stephen Cottrell’s fiercest critics, a little of the anger directed towards him may be turned against me, which is not something I relish; yet I am critical of the Church for what many others apparently find acceptable.

    Urgent action is needed. Hopefully a truly independent safeguarding system, with suitably skilled staff and adequately resourced, will be put in place without further delay. I fear however that some of what is going on is more hindering than helping to further safety and justice. And this matters too much for me to stay silent. Even if I am wrong on some issues, I hope that more discussion may strengthen moves to improve matters.

    It is frequently pointed out that there are positive examples in wider society from which churches can learn. However it is worth learning too from failings in how scandals in the NHS, social services and other institutions have been dealt with at times. Managers and professionals who did not prevent these have been publicly shamed and sometimes punished, only for similar problems to surface elsewhere, repeatedly. Sometimes these have been linked with gaps in coordination or competing goals across organisations and systems (health, adult and children’s social services, criminal justice and so forth).

    The desire for accountability is understandable. Yet the focus on individuals can mean that wider risk factors are brushed aside. In social and health care, there are indeed instances when appallingly abusive or neglectful practice goes unchallenged, or subtler bias causes widespread harm. But understaffing, unintended consequences of national policy and so forth can continue to do damage and maybe worsen the situation, as morale may drop still lower, with more staff quitting or practising so defensively that it affects patient or client wellbeing. There may be opportunities for learning here too.

    I am not a survivor myself. But abuse has profoundly affected people I care for, or have cared for, with a major impact on my own life. And as a volunteer and sometimes trustee, I have been active for many years in seeking to counter gender-based violence and support survivors. I have also been involved, for over four decades, in striving for racial justice and LGBTQ+ inclusion in churches and society, locally and nationally, and have written extensively on equalities and human rights. In other settings too I have had to grapple with the complexities of trying to change systems and cultures. I am a layperson and the closest I have come to high office in the Church of England is serving on deanery synod in my borough.

    Amidst widespread anger and distress among church members, it can be tempting to assume that leaders should always have been able to prevent or detect problems sooner. They may be blamed for being too soft on those who seem evidently guilty – or, if those accused are heroes or friends of ours, being too hard on the obviously innocent. I have done this myself. Yet recognising the messiness of reality, including limits in knowledge, different perceptions and human imperfection in ourselves and others, may be crucially important in moving forward together.

    Ongoing concerns amidst a backdrop of conflict and uncertainty

    In parishes, chaplaincies and higher levels across the Church of England, numerous people seek to put their Christian faith into practice, while recognising their fallibility and need for God’s mercy. The hungry are fed, the sick and lonely visited, the good news of divine love and hope through Jesus’ life, death and resurrection is shared in word and deed. At the same time, churches are often better at worship and caring than at exploring what God’s realm on earth of justice and peace might look like, where this includes confronting inequity, and insensitivity and cruelty may take a toll, as in any other community or movement.

    Historically, the Church’s track record in dealing with sexual abuse has been abysmal; and, while other institutions with similarly shameful pasts have moved faster to strengthen systems, improvements here have taken longer. Intensive work has gone on to strengthen safeguarding in recent years, including required training for numerous laypeople with various responsibilities, as well as for clergy.

    Yet dealing with cases of historical abuse has been erratic and, even now, the quality of responses to allegations and concerns is variable. The complexities were highlighted by the sorry saga at Christ Church Oxford, in which a dean and vice dean on different sides of a controversy over alleged sexual harassment faced long and stressful proceedings. Lack of transparency and confidence in safeguarding systems and concerns about the clergy disciplinary system were spotlighted. Proportionality was also an issue, though even ‘minor’ breaches can have a serious impact. In a flawed system, those alleging abuse or sexual misconduct, those against whom allegations are made and those in positions of responsibility who act, or fail to do so, can all pay a heavy price; though handling such concerns even in better-designed processes in other organisations can be harrowing and ultimately unsatisfactory.

    Meanwhile, from the frontline to the most senior levels, the Church has struggled with failing attendance and overstretched finances, heightening tension over a range of issues. Perhaps the most contentious in recent years is Living in Love and Faith, as painfully slow progress has been made towards allowing clergy and congregations to celebrate, and benefit from, same-sex partnerships and marriage. Despite widespread support among British Anglicans, made clear repeatedly in polls, and strong theological arguments for change, there has been limited movement towards allowing those in favour of affirming loving commitment, as well as those against, to act in line with conscience.

    Despite the archbishops themselves being in favour of such change, they have often not made the case clearly and strongly enough, in my view, nor have they pointed out the costly concessions already made by those seeking greater inclusion. This has left some campaigners for change very angry. Those strongly opposed continue to call for schism, furious that even modest progress has been made – though other ‘conservatives’ have been trying to find a constructive way forward. So senior figures may face anger, even hostility, from opposite directions.

    Regardless of their position on LLF, many people are united by genuine commitment to improving safeguarding but, in this volatile situation, actual or perceived blunders by senior clergy are more likely to be seized on as evidence they should be removed. And pragmatically, especially for those who would like to halt or reverse greater LGBT+ inclusion, gaining more seats and influence in the House of Bishops is seen as important to protect the Church from error.

    Along with concerns about an erratic and sometimes untrustworthy system for responding to safeguarding concerns, and the system for dealing with alleged misconduct by clergy or others in senior positions (or supporting them if struggling), questions have been raised about other relevant systems. Even in secular settings, professional advice-givers can wield considerable power – one of the reasons why so much attention has been paid, for instance, to Crown Prosecution Service handling of cases of alleged harassment and abuse. It is important to secure consistently skilful specialist advice and avoid conflict of interest, so that England-wide and ecclesiastical law and charity duties including responsible financial stewardship are complied with, alongside keeping people safe and doing justice.

    It should also perhaps be noted that, outside as well as in faith organisations, the ‘right’ outcomes cannot be guaranteed even if suitably skilled people apply the right procedures. Some have interpreted the findings of the Makin review as implying that Church leaders are responsible if, after sharing available evidence with the police and other bodies, these bodies do not take firm action against the alleged wrongdoer. If, and when, safeguarding is handled independently (hopefully soon), and if the lead body and its staff also face such expectations and cannot fulfil these, further problems may arise.

    Meanwhile, while journalists have played an extremely valuable role in bringing instances of abuse to light and driving change in churches, media attention remains something of a blunt instrument. A real passion for justice, empathy or lack of it towards interviewees, combined with the need to present stories in easy-to-grasp ways; all these can lead to oversimplification and occasionally misinformation. Reporting on what happened in Liverpool, and the responses which followed, has highlighted serious flaws, including lack of a clear process for discreetly delaying public ministry while concerns are methodically, while promptly, investigated. Even when inaccuracies in what was broadcast are corrected – and claims about bullying in the process have now been contested by several present – these receive less attention than the original assertions.

    The dispute about what happened during the Crown Nominations Commission’s selection process also reminds us that people may perceive the same events differently. I have no inside knowledge about what happened. But CNC processes for other dioceses have sometimes reached an impasse if a candidate is LGBT+-affirming. If, say, certain members regarded John Perumbalath as unsuitable for that reason along with others, and the archbishop encouraged people present to make a decision rather than yet again failing to appoint anyone, some might have felt unduly pressured.

    Also, concerningly, the lead journalist on the Channel 4 news story seemed to brush aside the fact that the first series of alleged incidents, in places where others too were present, were reported to and investigated by both Church safeguarding officials and the police, neither of whom verified these. There are problems if allegations are taken as proof of guilt, with the outcomes of any investigation ignored and a cover-up assumed.

    Unhelpful cultures

    Church of England culture – or perhaps ‘cultures’ – is (or are) a further complicating factor. Tradition and ties with the state, in particular, may foster an almost feudal culture, in which bishops may be ‘lords’ and different dioceses treated almost as separate entities. There are also echoes of a patriarchal model of a bishop as a father figure who benignly yet authoritatively governs a household. Even when bishops have tried to break this mould – and it can be flattering to be treated in this way – some may project such longings on to leaders, only to feel betrayed if these leaders turn out to have feet of clay.

    Managerialist culture, with accompanying structures and targets, has also had a huge impact in recent years, despite better-run businesses largely recognising its imperfections in improving ‘efficiency’. Populist culture is now widespread in wider society, in which a handful of influential people who may be portrayed as opponents of the ‘elite’ (whatever their own backgrounds and positions) may wield considerable power of various kinds. I think it is also on the rise in the Church. It is absolutely right that people with a persuasive case should be heard, yet in situations of mistrust and insecurity, simple solutions may be favoured and understandable indignation channelled in not always helpful ways.

    While there may be an unspoken assumption that a top cleric should be a wise and powerful figure, like an idealised liege-lord, head of the family or senior executive, or alternatively a symbol of a rotten old order who must be toppled to bring about change, in reality they may be sometimes muddled or wrong, just like the rest of us, and facing numerous constraints on the use of their powers.

    Moving forward

    I hope that Stephen Cottrell, despite mistakes, remains in place, while the focus is on major systemic and cultural change. We also need to celebrate and build on instances when the Church, at various levels, has lived out the Gospel. As well as introducing a truly independent safeguarding system, I suggest undertaking root cause analyses of failings; and, in identifying possible improvements in connected systems too, trying to anticipate and mitigate unintended negative consequences, while being ready also to identify and respond to unanticipated harms. Systemic change is seldom straightforward. Far greater openness, and willingness to involve church members at grassroots level in frank discussions about what should be done about various difficulties, may be helpful.

    To do justice, love kindness and walk humbly with God (Micah 6.8), and seek to be merciful while hungering and thirsting for righteousness (Matthew 5.6-7), are harder than they might seem. To gloss over abuse and other serious injustice, or neglect to defend those at risk, ultimately fails to show mercy not just to victims but also those at fault, who are called to do better, like all of us when we fail to live out our calling. Yet in seeking together to tackle what has gone wrong, we should be aware that what follows may not work entirely as expected, and that there will be risks of further hurt of various kinds. No human-made system is failsafe.

    The process of healing and restoration of right relationships in the Church will not be easy, but making a start now is important. Recent events have highlighted that there is much to be done.

  • Recognising Grooming: Revisiting the David Tudor Case

    by Anon.

    I write as a woman who met David Tudor in the early eighties when he came to our parish as a half-time Curate. The other half of his time was spent as chaplain and teacher of RE to the local CofE /Roman Catholic comprehensive school nearby. The Judgment at his recent Clergy Discipline Measure tribunal made clear that it would not name that parish in order to protect the anonymity of the recent complainants; I shall not do it here. Further, this judgment made it clear that, for the first time and after 40 years, Tudor admitted to abusive behaviour when confronted with a contemporaneous diary kept by one of the complainants.

    In the early days, he had concentrated his attention in the parish on three groups: children, their mothers and the elderly in the congregation. He was, by common consent, stunningly attractive and utterly charming. However, before long our then-incumbent (since deceased) confided that he found Tudor “uncontrollable”.

    From my own viewpoint, Tudor was making great progress with children in the parish, with their parents and with the elderly on whom he lavished time and attention. What I failed to realise at the time that this was a very practised onslaught of grooming of all those groups. Nonetheless, he seemed to sense that attention on me would not be appreciated but I felt, at the time, that I was quite alone in this. I have heard nothing since to make me change that view.

    After only a few months, problems crystallised when Tudor invited a group of the older children to a weekend away without any adult assistance.  I raised this at a PCC meeting in Tudor’s absence and not a single other person showed any concern. The expedition went ahead without my son, then aged 13 or so. The anguish this caused in our family was out of all proportion, as is often the way with young teenagers who have to be with their peer group in all circumstances (more recently captured in the epithet FOMO: fear of missing out).

    By that time, I had insisted on a meeting to discuss the matter with Tudor, but he failed to turn up “owing to an asthma attack”. The irony of taking children away overnight unaccompanied by any other adult when he could have an asthma attack was totally lost on him, as was the suggestion that, should any complaints arise, he would have no adult witness to protect him.

    Years later, our I met our then-incumbent at a Church School function and he told me that Tudor had originally proposed this overnight stay for school pupils but the governors had refused to allow it. Tudor had therefore cancelled the school trip rather than comply and hastily invited young church members instead. If the Governors had concerns about him by that time, they did not share them with our incumbent.

    As a family we were caught out again when Tudor proposed a holiday in Greece, again unaccompanied by other adults. We had already made arrangements to go to Canada where family members had emigrated some twenty years earlier and we had not seen them since. In the circumstances, rather than spell out my misgivings I explained to my son we could not do another holiday in Greece over and above the one in Canada. He took that to mean we could not afford it, which was eminently reasonable, and he came back from a meeting saying that Tudor had offered to tap into “charitable funds” on his behalf. I responded by letter saying how disgusted I was that my over-privileged son had been offered “charitable funds”. I was teaching at that time and I explained that, in my experience, in circumstances where finances were apparently the issue preventing a child from participating, the child was never informed. Negotiations would be between the head of the school and the parents. In the context of a parish church, the incumbent could be asked.

    The plan foundered but I never knew who it was who had seen the light and put a stop to the venture. I never heard of any conversation between the school and the parish church, although that does not mean they did not occur.

    Meanwhile the grooming process continued with apparent success,  even though in those far-off days of innocence I did not quite recognise it for what it was. I had concluded that children were likely to be at risk, but I was not certain whether those children were likely to be male or female. It troubled me greatly but I could not identify anyone with whom I could discuss it; as I saw it, I had no evidence and I certainly had no relationships in the Diocese for consultation and I did not even know an Archdeacon until many years later. Only recently have I discovered that our then-Area Bishop testified in Tudor’s favour at his subsequent trial (see below). I was clearly quite right to perceive myself to be at a loss.

    In 1986 or so, Tudor’s curacy was completed and he became part-time priest-in-charge at a nearby Church; his chaplaincy at the school was extended.

    I was not aware of how he was getting on at all until I heard on the grapevine that he had been convicted of molesting five girls at the school; Tudor was convicted and sentenced to six months in prison, which he served.

    After his release he appealed against the conviction, which was quashed on the grounds of a technicality. This technicality was that complaints against him as a defendant should have been taken one at a time, rather than all at once. It is not difficult to see the problems for a defendant if multiple cases are taken at once but, during the Labour Government of 1997-2010, that provision was changed in the case of trials for sexual offences. That is why it is not uncommon now to hear of sexual offenders convicted on multiple counts. That Government also brought in a provision covering people in a position of “authority /trust” to protect pupils or students who were technically above the age of consent.

    I did not know until recently what Tudor did after that but I now know that he was banned from the priesthood for five years and was then allowed back. I discovered only the other night that Archbishop Carey made that decision and he explained that it was he who decided to insist that Chelmsford Diocese should accept Tudor, which duly happened. Perhaps it was the Archbishop’s legacy which Stephen Cottrell inherited on his appointment to Chelmsford as Diocesan in 2010 rather than that of his immediate predecessor in that role.

    Meanwhile I still knew nothing of Tudor’s whereabouts and was assured by my own Bishop that he was not serving at that time and never would serve as a priest again. Priests have come under Employment Law since 2009 and are entitled to go to an Employment Tribunal, for example, and I guess that this was on his or her mind when the lawyer advised Stephen Cottrell against dismissal when he first encountered this problem. It could have been agreed that the risk was worth taking but, as there had already been archiepiscopal intervention, that would have been difficult.

    The case of the Dean of Manchester (Robert Waddington) emerged in 2013, long after Tudor had been to prison and long after Waddington himself had died. In the ensuing review chaired by Sally Cahill QC, both the then-Archbishop of York and the then-Bishop of Manchester were criticised for not having taken action years earlier. One problem was found to be of mutual deference between all three and it was noted that each was obliged by oath to the other two. This issue might have come into play in the Tudor/Carey/Cottrell situation although they would almost certainly not have recognised it.

    What I never knew until now was the nature of the abuse  and that Tudor was violent as well as abusive – or that there were girls in our congregation who suffered. A friend recently told me that her daughter reported at the time (in the eighties), that a friend of hers was “having an affair” with Tudor and that this friend had not told anyone because she was “frightened”. My friend could not understand the notion of being frightened. Maybe this child was one of the recent complainants who were from the parish.

    In my later life, I was in a position to speak about all this in various central church committees, in particular to use Tudor’s case to illustrate the power of grooming. At the time, I did not know where Tudor was, but then I saw a television programme with quite a long slot given to Canvey Island and its wonderful vicar, and there was he was. I continued to mention the case at national level. I was assured that enquiries would be made, and then that “there was no further problem and previous problems had been dealt with”.

    The only thing I have to add to the wider conversation about this is that the congregation in this case was never mentioned. I think what many of them may have experienced was real heartbreak. The women who have now complained have suffered ever since but they and the other girls at the time must have been distraught. Further, a subsequent incumbent who arrived at the parish about 15 years after these events told me he found the congregation still deeply divided and unhappy over it all. I still thought I was the only person who believed that Tudor was guilty as charged; he was even invited back to take Occasional Offices, although not in the Parish Church.

    In all the conversations about safeguarding I have heard in the interim,  nothing has been mentioned about congregations or about the other youngsters in the friendship groups of any victims. For all these people there will have been a massive betrayal of trust and a challenge to their self-belief. Some may have been groomed and they may never bring themselves to believe ill of the offender. A great friend of mine who was then the age that I am now firmly believed, she said, that those girls were “no better than they should be”. I guess there could be similar reactions in current cases, and such people should be sought out and helped otherwise bitterness and division could well persist as they did in this congregation for a generation or more.

    In the past few weeks, in a conversation with one of those adults groomed in the eighties who now understood Tudor’s admission, they nonetheless seemed to regard the latest revelations with an insouciance which is very difficult to understand. However, grooming needs to be understood if we are to bring closure to everyone who gets caught up in such events and to be sure that the whole parish can get healing.

    The existence of Parish Safeguarding Officers should and often does give people confidence to report; but that depends on parishioners and safeguarding officers themselves recognising grooming for what it is.