I grew up next door to a paedophile. In a 1950s built council semi. The walls weren’t very thick, as I am sure you can imagine.
The council had previously let the house to said paedos mum, and as was the case back then, her two grown up sons had taken on the tenancy jointly on her death.
Not long after, son 1 went to jail and son two lived there alone, then with a partner, and when the partner left, alone with the son fr9m the relationship.
When son 1 came up for parole, the fact he had a stable home to return to was considered favourable (I hope to god you wouldn’t send a paedo home to live with a single dad and his son these days?).
Son 2 was horrified, and set about breeze-blocking the house into two halves (the front rooms were modern 50s L shapes, with two doors from kitchen to living room and a downstairs loo, would’ve been much harder in a terrace!) and son 1 got the part of the house that included the bedroom that was affixed to our semi, most notably, son 1’s bedroom and my parents bedroom. This was the second biggest bedroom in the house and it’s only recently that I have realised that my mum likely choose not to occupy the master bedroom precisely so neither of her daughter’s were in the room that attached to a paedos bedroom... but I digress.
Anyway, everyone in our village knew. The only real safeguarding that I am aware of existing in the 70s and 80s is the protections created by women talking. My parents were not too worried about us (everyone knew that Son 1 was interested in pubescent boys, not prepubescent girls like us) but my mum, a dinner lady at the local primary school, used to watch that door like a hawk.
Whenever voices were heard in son 1’s bedroom, we were sent in with kazoos and tambourines and this shaky-noise-maker-thing a great aunt had bought back from Tunisia.
My mum wanted him to know that she could hear him
Despite the best efforts of the women of the village, he did indeed reoffend and go back to jail. This time son 2 was promised he would he would not have to have him back (the victim lived in the village) and the breeze blocks were taken down. Son 2’s son was not victimised by his paedo uncle, and son 2 should probably take quite some pride in the lengths he went to to keep his boy safe from his brother.
I share this story now for a couple of reasons - 1) two adult men from the same marriage grew up in the same environment and only one went on to victimise children. There is no way for any of us to surmise correctly as to whether any of the Challoner family are victims of their despicable husband/father, nor whether being victims has given them the potential to be abusers themselves. Thus we can only judge AC on AC’s actions - and arguing (politically, publicly) for the removals of norms that contribute to the removal of current safeguarding practice is one of AC’s adult actions and
2) If anyone wants to insult me for being concerned about the safeguarding of women and girls, I will think of my (late) mum, and her kazoo/tambourine/loud Tunisian souvenir and make as much noise as I can to let them know that we can hear them.