8/110/3

Was Spiderman Right?

Katherine Knight

Daily Mail

His crane top protest over access to his daughter paralysed London this week. But was justice on his side? Read his story and decide.

THE costume that made all the headlines is now neatly folded alongside the few treasured photographs he has of his daughter Lauren - photos that are now the sole link he has with his only child. David Chick - better known as Spiderman since spending five days at the top of a 150ft crane to protest about being denied access to his two-year-old daughter - chose the character to represent his campaign because it is his daughter's favourite cartoon.

He hasn't seen her for eight months and, speaking exclusively to the Mail, vividly describes the anguish and desperation which led him to such an extraordinary action.

Mr Chick's experiences are by no means unique, and his behaviour, though undeniably extreme, has focused the spotlight on the plight of fathers caught up in bitter custody and access battles in the family courts.

The fact that he has, in the process, made himself a cause celebre, has also led to a series of unsavoury claims and counter-claims between him and his ex-partner, Joanne Gowens, 35, who has engaged the services of agent Max Clifford and a this week negotiating to sell her story.

Undoubtedly, not everything Mr Chick has to-say makes for pleasant reading. Nor, it has to be said, can his own conduct escape criticism. He is now facing charges of causing a public nuisance and his case will be sent to crown court next month after a magistrates' hearing on Thursday.

But his experiences raise important questions about the role of fathers after separation or divorce. As Mr Chick puts it: 'Lauren is the most precious thing in my world. I was there for the scans when she was still in the womb, I was there for her birth. I fed her, bathed her, got up in the night with her, cuddled her when she cried.

'Now I'm just another statistic - another dad who has no part in his daughter's life. For me, it is a living bereavement.'

The deep battle-lines that now characterise Mr Chick's family relationships seem all the more extraordinary compared with the mundane backdrop against which he first met and fell in love with his former partner.

Mr Chick, then a delivery driver, met Joanne Gowens in 1997 when he bought a flat above hers in an apartment block in Leatherhead, Surrey. The two became friends. Two years later, they started going out together.

'It was quite casual at first, but after a few months it got more serious,' he recalls. 'I liked her - we had fun together. It was just like any other normal couple starting out together'

Six months into the relationship, in September 1999, Joanne discovered she was pregnant. 'It was a bit of a shock at first, because she was on the Pill, but to be honest I was over the moon,'Mr Chick recalls.

'I'd always wanted a family, and although it was early days for us as a couple, I didn't have any worries. I loved my brother and sisters' kids and was thrilled at the opportunity to have a child of my own.'

Joanne, he says, was less sure. 'She talked about a termination. I begged her not to do anything rash, and she agreed she would think about it.'

In the event, Joanne miscarried. 'She was upset, but I think she was also relieved in a way' Mr Chick recalls.

WITHIN six months, Joanne 'became pregnant again, even though she was still on the Pill. 'Again, I was thrilled at the prospect of becoming a father, but Joanne was blowing hot and cold about it. I made it clear I really wanted her to have the child and that we would be a proper family, but in the early stages she was still contemplating a termination.

'In the end, there wasn't a defining moment where she made a positive decision to keep the baby. She had dithered so much that she just reached a stage where termination wasn't an option.

'And thank God she did. I remember feeling so excited when we went for the first ultrasound scan, thinking: "That's our baby."

Mr Chick arranged for both their flats to go on the market. With the proceeds, they bought a three-bedroom house in West Horsley, Sussex.

'It was a lovely house, overlooking fields. West Horsley's a nice place, a safe place to bring up a child, and I really felt we were going to be happy there.'

Mr Chick also became involved in Joanne's cleaning business. 'The idea was that we would be a team on all levels, sharing the business and the family work. Instead of me working full-time and Joanne staying at home, we would both do our fair share. I wanted to be a hands-on father'

He remembers Joanne's pregnancy as a happy time.'I got on well with her family, who all lived nearby. I'd go for drinks with her two brothers and I used to cut her mum's hedge - all the normal suburban family stuff. Joanne's mum was thrilled because it was to be her first grandchild.

Joanne got on well with my family, too. My brother and sister and their kids would come round to ours for barbecues. It was all very friendly.'

LAUREN was born by caesarean section at Guildford Hospital on December 15, 2000, and David was present for the birth. 'I was the first one to hold Lauren. I was so thrilled. Nothing can prepare you for the feeling of becoming a father.'

The couple returned home from hospital and settled into new parenthood. 'For the first few weeks we were really happy, I says Mr Chick. 'Joanne was a bit moody at times, but I put it down to her adapting to being a mum.'

What happened next is the subject of a war of words between them. This week, both sides have given very different explanations of how and why the relationship deteriorated. Certainly, Mr Chick maintains that he was the one fighting to keep the new family together.

Joanne has intimated that her partner had been violent towards her - something that he and his family vehemently dispute. Mr Chick is, of course, by no means unbiased as he gives his version of events for the first time.

He says: 'The first incident that really concerned me happened when Lauren was three months old. We were having an argument, nothing major, just bickering. Joanne was sat on the bed with Lauren on her chest, and suddenly she just threw Lauren from her so she landed on the bed. She wasn't hurt, but it was obviously an odd thing to do.'

Concerned, Mr Chick says he mentioned the incident to his sister Carol, herself a mother of two, who suggested it might be indicative of post-natal depression.

'I decided to speak to our health visitor. But because I wasn't married to Joanne, I'm not entitled to know about the conversation they had. Joanne refused to talk to me about it, and things were a bit tense. But it didn't happen again and I just thought it would all blow over.'

In July 2001, when Lauren was seven months old, the family enjoyed a week-long holiday in Devon and it seemed equilibrium had been restored. But on their return, the couple started arguing frequently.

'Joanne would start arguments for no reason, accusing me of being lazy of not doing enough.. Looking back, I think she'd decided she wanted out, and she wanted to provoke me into saying: "I've had enough, I'm off." But I didn't want to do that because I didn't want to leave my daughter'

Again, what unfolded over the next few months is subject to widely differing accounts by David and Joanne. 'A couple of times, Joanne called the police and accused me of hitting her,' Mr Chick says. 'Each time, they'd turn up, take one look at her and leave.

'I was never arrested, and I can put my hand on my heart and say I never laid a finger on her. I would never, ever do that to any woman - and certainly not the mother of my child. I may look tough, but I'm not a violent man.

'I don't know why she did it. It was as if she was trying to build up a case against me, like she'd already decided she wanted out.'

What is undisputed is that in October 2001, Mr Chick offered to move back to his mother's house in Burgess Hill, West Sussex. 'At this stage, I genuinely wanted to try to save my relationship with Joanne - not for her sake, but for Lauren's.

'I thought if I gave her some space, it would help take the heat off us. I saw it as a temporary break, although I now believe Jo had no intention of getting back together.'He says they even visited Relate in a bid to salvage their relationship.

Two weeks later, Mr Chick moved back home. But a few days after that he received a letter from Joanne's solicitor. 'It said Joanne wanted to end the relationship because of the violence. I was flabbergasted. I was living under the same roof and she had never said anything like this to me.

'I confronted her and she said: "You're always shouting - you frighten Lauren." I was at a loss. How do you deal with something like that.

Again, Mr Chick moved into his mother's house. He claims that when he returned home to get some clothes, he found that Joanne had changed the locks - a fact corroborated by his sister Carol, who was with him.

'This was the house we had bought and paid for together, and here I was shut out,' he says. 'I knew then that our relationship was unsalvageable and I needed to see a solicitor. All that mattered was that I could see Lauren, but it was clear I couldn't communicate with her mother any more.'

Initially, it was agreed that Mr Chick would be able to visit his daughter at the house of Joanne's brother, Marvin Gowens. But after just two such visits - ones he recalls as happy family occasions, including his daughter' first birthday party - he was told that Marvin was no longer prepared to host them.

Exasperated, he tried to rearrange access, only to be told that Joanne was requesting supervised visits on neutral territory because of her fears of his violence.

'She said she was seared of me, and her mum, who is hardly impartial, backed her up. With no further evidence, I was told I could see Lauren for just a few hours every Saturday at a contact centre. I was devastated.

MY LITTLE girl - the most important person in my life - was being taken away from me, apart from two hours a week when I see her in front of a bunch of strangers, in the most artificial environment you can imagine - a church hall or community centre.

'It's like being in a prison visiting centre. You can't go for a walk or play in the park. You're stuck in a room with a few toys scattered around. And all around are these other men in the same desperate position, trying to bond with their children. It's just awful.

Worse, according to Mr Chick, was that on many occasions Joanne did not honour the arrangement. 'I would get to the contact centre only to receive a phone call saying that Lauren was ill or tired and couldn't make it.

'Or sometimes Joanne would arrive late - and when you've got only a couple of hours with your daughter, every half hour counts. It was so frustrating because I didn't have any recourse. The courts can't really enforce contact orders, so they rely on goodwill - which Joanne and I didn't have.'

By early this year, relations had deteriorated to such an extent that Mr Chick was barely seeing his daughter at all. In desperation, he followed her to nursery school - an action that was to lead to a conviction for harassment in July.

'I knew Laurens nana took her to nursery, so I followed them in my car, just to look at her. Can you imagine how that feels, seeing your daughter go into nursery and not being able to give her a kiss and cuddle?

'I waited by the gates to see her, but Joanne arrived and phoned the police. She accused me of threatening her and stalking her.'

Latterly, his relationship with Joanne has been characterised by ever more bizarre and unsavoury claims and counter- claims.

According to Mr Chick, Joanne has, via her solicitors, accused him of intimidation tactics, including leaving a dead fox on her mother's doorstep - claims which are fiercely disputed by Mr Chick but which ultimately led to his access visits being reduced to fortnightly.

Admittedly, Mr Chick's past is not without its shadows. He has a conviction for possession of cannabis in December 2000, and, in 1987, a conviction for indecency after a brief homosexual experience as a teenager.

'It was a youthful indiscretion, and I'm not proud of it. But it has nothing to do with my ability to be a good father, or my right to have a relationship with my daughter'

In a month's time, Lauren will celebrate her third birthday - another milestone that her father will almost inevitably miss. So far, he has lost his home (he now lives in his mother's house) and his job, as he no longer works for his ex-partner's business.

Perhaps most poignantly of all, though, he believes that any relationship he may be able to salvage with his daughter will have been irrevocably soured.

'The last couple of times I saw her, earlier this year, she was changed towards me, distant. I asked her what was wrong and she said: "Mummy say Daddy nasty." What can you say to that?

'I worry that already it's too late, that I've lost her. I can only hope that when she's grown up she will find me again, and I can show her how much I cared.'

Few could dispute his paternal fervour. That 'Spiderman' felt driven to go to such extraordinary lengths just to be a father is not just a personal tragedy but a telling indictment of what is becoming a common tragedy of our times.