Malcolm Fairley broke into houses during the night and raped women at gunpoint in front of their husbands. The year before, our county had been terrorised by a rapist known as the Fox. Asking me where I wanted to stay was taken as consent to group sex. This is what, he later told me, he took as my consent. I thought he wanted us to spend the night alone together at Simon's, so this was what I chose. (He was also a model and actor and was having a party.) I didn't understand the hidden meaning. Liam asked if I would like to stay at Simon's house where we would "all be together" or go back to the fourth member of the band's bedsit. I said yes and he shuffled me out of the door quickly, followed by the others. Liam asked if I had made the arrangement to stay out. I waited while they circulated for half an hour and then they came over to me. After the concert, the men were on a high, enjoying the attention of their groupies. I didn't drink much of it and certainly wasn't drunk. I wasn't plied with champagne but with cheap vodka. So I arranged my alibi and went to the concert. He also told me that he couldn't believe I was a virgin when I first met him. I would have done anything he asked because I had fallen in love with this man who spoke of grown-up things, who said, "I can't believe you're only 14, you look so much older" - though the photos I gaze at now tell me that I didn't. He suggested I lie to my parents and say I was at a girlfriend's house, so we could "spend the whole night together". Liam asked me to arrange to stay out the night of the concert. I had been seeing one of them, Liam, for three weeks and had met Phil and Simon once or twice. That night, I watched them on the stage high above me and when they smiled at me, pointed me out and waved, I felt grown-up and glamorous, and important. They were a gang with catchphrases I didn't understand, mostly referring to sex acts, and little hand signals that my best friend and I emulated and giggled over in the playground at lunchtime. Their faces pouted out of photo- graphs in the local paper. They talked about a world I knew nothing of, a glamorous world of recording studios and record contracts. The men, who were about six years older than me, were in a pop band, playing village halls and occasional support slots to bigger bands. But to me, a 14-year-old girl, only 4ft 11in tall, with very limited experience of the world, they were glamour personified. The men who raped me weren't celebrities and they weren't even rich. By the end of the night I had been gang raped in circumstances similar to those alleged by the 17-year-old girl accusing several men, including Premiership footballers, of raping her at the Grosvenor House hotel. In October 1985, I attended a pop concert against my parents' wishes.
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