'I'd explained to the girls that if someone did try to hurt them, they should shout, "I don't know you. What are you doing?" as loud as they could. But he had his hand over her mouth'
It was 4pm at the end of February, a perfect hot summer afternoon in Sydney. Our nanny, Zara, was looking after our daughters. She had just dropped the eldest off for Girl Guides at a community hall five minutes from our house. It was the first time I'd asked her to do the Girl Guides pick-up, but I was busy working at home and she was happy to help. The community hall was next to some netball courts, where Zara and six-year-old Erica played until her sister finished.
Erica suggested a game she liked to play: scootering around the toilet block and getting me to time her. The first two "laps" went well – her best was 30 seconds – then she set off for a third time. Zara watched her disappear around the back of the block but, 45 seconds later, there was still no Erica on the other side.
Seconds ticked by and just as Zara was getting anxious, she heard two women screaming, "He's got her! He's got her!" They were on a nearby court and could see more.
One minute Erica was there, the next she'd been taken. In those brief seconds, a man had carried her away towards the bushland that stretched beyond the courts.
As Zara ran towards the women to find out what had happened, another mother, Louisa, was chasing the man. She'd arrived early for netball training that afternoon and had seen the girls walking to the courts. She'd also spotted a car following them and parking nearby, and a man inside watching them. She wasn't suspicious at first – the man looked pretty respectable in his suit – but she was uneasy enough to mention him to friends when they arrived, at which point he drove away.
Chatting to her friends on court, Louisa noticed the man again. He'd moved nearer. He was now lurking in the trees near a path by the toilet block, apparently chatting on his phone. As she turned to tell her friends, she heard a high scream and saw Erica being carried off towards dense bushes.
She shouted at the man as she ran towards him, demanding that he put Erica down – he was already about 400m away. Quite calmly, the man let Erica go and continued to walk into the undergrowth, as if nothing had happened. Lousia chased him a little way into the bush but, once she was out of sight of the courts, felt anxious and ran back.
Of course, I was oblivious to all this, and by the time Zara called me, she had Erica safely back in her arms. The whole ordeal had lasted less than 10 minutes. I was stunned and confused, and rushed to the courts. I asked my daughter, who was quiet and in shock, if she was OK and what the man had done to her.
Apparently he had lifted her up off her scooter, squeezed her neck and said, "Be quiet or I'll hurt you." Then he'd gagged her mouth with his hand. Erica was limp with fear, but she did manage to let out that little scream which, thankfully, Louisa heard.
I had always assumed she would kick and protest if something like this happened; I'd explained to the girls that if someone did try to hurt them, they should shout, "I don't know you. What are you doing?" as loud as they could. But he had his hand over her mouth. Part of me wanted just to hold her so tightly; part of me wanted to find this man who had tried to take my daughter.
The police found DNA on Erica's clothing and scooter, and a photofit was circulated. Two months later, I saw a TV news report about a 14-year-old who had been grabbed and dragged away at knifepoint on her way home from school, about 10km from our house. Police told us later that there was a DNA match.
With the help of CCTV footage from the second assault and the DNA evidence, they made an arrest. The man pleaded guilty and was sentenced to seven years.
Erica still wakes in fear, saying she has spotted him in a crowd. I have felt bad that I wasn't there to look after her that afternoon, though I believe it would have happened on my watch, too. Zara was more vigilant than I'd have been; I'd have probably laid back on a bench to enjoy the sun.
Yet there is rarely an hour in the day when I don't think about how lucky we are; I'm haunted by the what-ifs. Louisa's vigilance, bravery and intuition saved our family.
• All names have been changed.
As told to Sarah Smith
Do you have an experience to share? Email experience@theguardian.com Reported by guardian.co.uk 14 hours ago.
It was 4pm at the end of February, a perfect hot summer afternoon in Sydney. Our nanny, Zara, was looking after our daughters. She had just dropped the eldest off for Girl Guides at a community hall five minutes from our house. It was the first time I'd asked her to do the Girl Guides pick-up, but I was busy working at home and she was happy to help. The community hall was next to some netball courts, where Zara and six-year-old Erica played until her sister finished.
Erica suggested a game she liked to play: scootering around the toilet block and getting me to time her. The first two "laps" went well – her best was 30 seconds – then she set off for a third time. Zara watched her disappear around the back of the block but, 45 seconds later, there was still no Erica on the other side.
Seconds ticked by and just as Zara was getting anxious, she heard two women screaming, "He's got her! He's got her!" They were on a nearby court and could see more.
One minute Erica was there, the next she'd been taken. In those brief seconds, a man had carried her away towards the bushland that stretched beyond the courts.
As Zara ran towards the women to find out what had happened, another mother, Louisa, was chasing the man. She'd arrived early for netball training that afternoon and had seen the girls walking to the courts. She'd also spotted a car following them and parking nearby, and a man inside watching them. She wasn't suspicious at first – the man looked pretty respectable in his suit – but she was uneasy enough to mention him to friends when they arrived, at which point he drove away.
Chatting to her friends on court, Louisa noticed the man again. He'd moved nearer. He was now lurking in the trees near a path by the toilet block, apparently chatting on his phone. As she turned to tell her friends, she heard a high scream and saw Erica being carried off towards dense bushes.
She shouted at the man as she ran towards him, demanding that he put Erica down – he was already about 400m away. Quite calmly, the man let Erica go and continued to walk into the undergrowth, as if nothing had happened. Lousia chased him a little way into the bush but, once she was out of sight of the courts, felt anxious and ran back.
Of course, I was oblivious to all this, and by the time Zara called me, she had Erica safely back in her arms. The whole ordeal had lasted less than 10 minutes. I was stunned and confused, and rushed to the courts. I asked my daughter, who was quiet and in shock, if she was OK and what the man had done to her.
Apparently he had lifted her up off her scooter, squeezed her neck and said, "Be quiet or I'll hurt you." Then he'd gagged her mouth with his hand. Erica was limp with fear, but she did manage to let out that little scream which, thankfully, Louisa heard.
I had always assumed she would kick and protest if something like this happened; I'd explained to the girls that if someone did try to hurt them, they should shout, "I don't know you. What are you doing?" as loud as they could. But he had his hand over her mouth. Part of me wanted just to hold her so tightly; part of me wanted to find this man who had tried to take my daughter.
The police found DNA on Erica's clothing and scooter, and a photofit was circulated. Two months later, I saw a TV news report about a 14-year-old who had been grabbed and dragged away at knifepoint on her way home from school, about 10km from our house. Police told us later that there was a DNA match.
With the help of CCTV footage from the second assault and the DNA evidence, they made an arrest. The man pleaded guilty and was sentenced to seven years.
Erica still wakes in fear, saying she has spotted him in a crowd. I have felt bad that I wasn't there to look after her that afternoon, though I believe it would have happened on my watch, too. Zara was more vigilant than I'd have been; I'd have probably laid back on a bench to enjoy the sun.
Yet there is rarely an hour in the day when I don't think about how lucky we are; I'm haunted by the what-ifs. Louisa's vigilance, bravery and intuition saved our family.
• All names have been changed.
As told to Sarah Smith
Do you have an experience to share? Email experience@theguardian.com Reported by guardian.co.uk 14 hours ago.