Adventures Of Ryan Tanner (Part 2)

......This was the first morning for over a year that the freight train of fear hadn’t arrived. Ryan Tanner’s every waking moment had been a nightmare since his arrest some twelve months previously. The freight train of fear had passed by for the first time in over a year. It wasn’t coming at him at speed; it wasn’t on its way. No screaming whistle and no screeching of the brakes. It was over. The possibility of ten years in prison was no more. The judge’s words kept repeating in Ryan’s head “You’re free to leave this court Mr Tanner”.

The journey home took just under four hours. Maggie, Ryans mother-in law, had slept for most of it. Apparently, she’d refused to go to sleep until Ryan was tucked up in his room. Ryan’s wife had mentioned earlier that it was about 3am. Ryan enjoyed the drive. Smiling and winking at the other drivers who were also caught in the stand-still traffic on the various motorways and dual carriage ways. Nothing could ruin his day he thought. The photographer back at the hotel was shocked to discover Ryan was happy to be photographed. Ryan chose the spot for the shoot in front of the same fish tank he’d attempted to swim in during the early hours. The news of his acquittal had made the headlines. Luckily, there was nothing about Ryan’s attempted early morning dip. Ryan remembered his audience the night before. “Fuck em” he thought. The presenter began, “A man was yesterday acquitted of all charges of stalking over a four year period”, the newscaster announced on the radio. “Ryan Tanner, who is fifty years old, spoke briefly to our reporter after his acquittal at Kingdom crown court yesterday. He said, I am innocent and have been innocent of all charges since the day the police smashed down my front door and arrested me. It’s time to gather my thoughts and spend some quality time with my family”. Ryan laughed out aloud as he re-tuned the radio. Don McLean-Chain Lightening that’ll do nicely he said as he turned up the volume using the control paddles next to the steering wheel.

2012 was the year Ryan had decided to try and in his own words “put things right about Byrne House”. Too many news reports were reporting that senior politicians and other well-known show business celebrities had been regular visitors to the home where Ryan had lived for two years. These supposed politicians had allegedly regularly picked up boys and took them away to London to be sexually abused in various addresses at high class parties. Ryan knew it was lies he was watching the creation of “fake news” in all its glory. The dramatic music behind the news features, the special reports involving experts and specialists filled the TV screens day and night for almost a week. Ryan’s mobile phone rang; it was Barry from the BBC Wales. A deep southwalian accent requested an interview. The promise of a £50 payment to talk about the Byrne House visitors on the phone for a few minutes sent Ryan into a tirade of expletives and curses. Barry apologised and promised no further contact. A quarter of an hour later Roger from BBC Wales was on the phone. Ryan knew Roger from the mid-eighties. Some of the so-called care staff had been convicted of sexually abusing some children at Byrne House. Roger had interviewed Ryan about his time there as a teenager. 

Things were different this time. Many years had passed and Roger was a senior reporter and he was expected to be able to deliver the goods. “OK, Ryan I understand what you’re saying but might there be any chance you could put me in touch with Alwyn Hughes?” Alwyn had been sexually abused according to the jury at the trial of Peter Hogget. Hogget had been convicted of numerous offences of sexual abuse against a number of boys at Byrne House during the 1960’s through to the middle of the 1980’s. “Roger” Ryan said quietly “I think it’s best if you fuck off. Leave me and anyone I know alone if you’d be so kind”. “But Ryan”, Roger persisted, “this is big. What’s it going to cost me?” Memories of Alwyn came to Ryan’s mind. He placed the phone on its cradle. It rang again. Ryan grabbed the dog lead and summoned his four legged friend. “Oscar, c'mon let’s go”.

Oscar heard Ryan’s legal defence time after time without knowing it. Each evening as they walked Ryan would inform Oscar what his reply to any of the prosecutions questions would be, each line would be rehearsed over and over. Oscar was happy to listen as long as he had a ball to fetch. The judge had agreed a time limit on Ryan’s trial, six days. The case management hearings and the pre-trial preparation hearings evidence was bollocks, Ryan explained to Oscar. It was a jury Ryan wanted, a jury of twelve normal everyday people who would see right through the prosecution’s case. “You wait and see Oscar; I’ll be taking you for a long walk on the 20th of June 2017. And so it was. Ryan and his sheepdog Oscar walked for five hours on the 20th June 2017.

Ryan Tanner’s refusals to accept the media’s mantra- that politicians visited Byrne House made him enemies. Whether it was on social media in the newspapers and or in the main stream media, various so-called “victims” made appearances and made wild and far-fetched claims. Tanner knew some of these so-called “victims”. They’d been at Byrne House together all those years ago. Martin Watson appeared on Sky News and looked almost dead to Ryan. His skin was white and his hair was wet from the sweat he was expelling. Martin was drinking from a beer bottle during the interview and wearing a denim jacket and ripped jeans, he lied through his teeth that resembled a row of bombed houses. Ryan turned to his wife and said, “That’s bullshit. Every word is bullshit, I was there”. “Don’t let it bother you” she replied. “Well it does bother me” said an uncomfortable Ryan. “It’s doing my head in”....cont