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I'm so like my dad, says Stephen West. We are all grimly intimate with every detail of the West children's past; in one line, he has revealed how our knowledge will now weigh down their efforts to construct a future.
Some may read in Stephen's plan an attempt to atone for his parents' crimes; inevitably others will see the appalling spectre of abused turned abuser, locked into some awful cycle. Stephen and Mae West, the two oldest surviving children, have written a book about their childhood in Cromwell Street. It is tipped to enter the bestseller list next week. Sitting on the sofa in Mae's suburban Gloucester semi, they tussle jokily over the morning's post.
When Stephen says: ! The Wests are having a domestic! We cannot help but judge their every word or act by their parents' deeds. But should they, then, bury their history and re- invent themselves elsewhere, or salvage what they can from the past and persevere with their notoriety? Family's everything to us, and I could never let them down.
Eight months' pregnant with her first child, Mae lives with a younger half- sister and her small son. Once a month, she visits her mother in Durham prison. She has not changed her appearance, but has acquired a new name, she explains, for practical reasons. You would fill in 2. Cromwell Street as your previous address, and they either thought it was a joke and chucked the form away, or didn't want to know.
Like his father, he is a local builder. Until last year he worked for Fred's old boss and drove Fred's van. When the twins were born, he reluctantly decided not to call his son Fred, but named the daughter Rose. He thinks they will probably change their surname before they start school, and talks of one day moving to Australia, but is happy for now to be Stephen West and to continue living in Gloucester.
When we bought our house, the man who owned the estate made me fill out a questionnaire saying things like: 'Did you know your sister was murdered?'. We didn't do anything wrong, so why should I leave my home? Other victims' families haven't had to move away. A lot of people would like nothing more than to see us fall to bits, and I won't.
I know I'm so much like my dad in his nature. Not his bad nature, mind, but certain things. Sometimes I say something and it's like he said it. The couple had been together only three months when Fred West was arrested, and the relationship has been volatile at times. Mae is no longer with the father of her baby. A lot of men won't ever want to know me now, and there are others who just want to go out with you so they can say they've been with Mae West. Her home is a model of suburban convention, with pastel borders and faux mahogany sideboard, unrecognisable from the anarchic eccentricities of 2.
Cromwell Street. She is accustomed to stares and whispers, and can be wearily knowing: . But you could have a good old laugh with him. You would never think he was a murderer. Which is a shame, because she's locked up. Strangely dandy for nine in the morning, and rather proudly nursing a hangover, at times he gives the impression of relishing his macabre notoriety. Girls, apparently, have been calling Mae to tell them how much they fancy him, which pleases him. But his anger is evident, and sits oddly alongside the echoes of psychospeak which stray into conversation.
Partly, that's due to the very intense pressure I've been placed under. Like Mae, his deadpan delivery can be horribly, unintentionally funny. We know what it's like to lose somebody through this. Obviously we've got the added burden of it being our dad who did it.
Stephen will spend it with his wife and her family. We'll just have a quiet day in. They don't plan to mark the anniversary, on New Year's Day, of their father's suicide.
As we get up to leave, we mention that we're going to Cromwell Street. Stephen frowns, and warns: .
Actually, they're all nutters down there. Definitely got a screw loose.