MANY people recognise the name Cynthia Owen.
Cynthia lived at 4 White’s Villas in Dalkey on the outskirts of Dublin — an address that became notoriously known as the House of Horrors.
This determined woman spent 15 years battling to have her murdered baby legally recognised as her daughter — whom she gave birth to when she was 11 years old after she was sexually abused by her father.
Cynthia finally won her battle in 2007 and for the first time tells the story of her long and determined fight for justice in a new book, Living With Evil.
Writing the book, says Cynthia, 48, has been a liberating experience but at the same time a stark and brutal reminder of the hell she went through as a child.
“Just to get the story out there feels liberating,” she said. “To finally have a voice is something of a victory, but at the same time it’s a bittersweet one. At least I got to tell my side of the story and someone finally listened.”
Cynthia was just eight years old when her father first abused her. And shortly before her 11th birthday she was pregnant with his child. But minutes after giving birth to her baby daughter, Cynthia watched in horror as her own mother murdered the tiny infant by repeatedly stabbing her with a knitting needle.
Her mother then wrapped the baby girl in a plastic bag, dumped her in a laneway and made her daughter go back to school and pretend nothing had happened.
That was the problem Cynthia says — noone took any notice of what was going on behind closed doors yet she’s convinced that several people must have known.
There were nine children in the house but her alcoholic parents did everything in their power to keep people out of their daily business.
“I am convinced that various people must have known what was going on in that chaotic house, but no-one tried to stop it.
“The school must have suspected something but if they did, they didn’t let on. We all smelt bad and wore scruffy clothes and were totally unruly. We were all riddled with lice and we never had copies or pens to do our homework.
“When I was pregnant I remember the nun asked me out straight if I was, but I said no because I knew my mother would kill me if anyone found out. They all should have noticed something.”
The abuse continued for many years and Cynthia tried to put it out of her mind. But no matter how hard she tried she could not forget that awful night during the Easter holidays of 1973 when she gave birth to her baby daughter.
Nor could she forget watching the events that led her own mother to murder the helpless newborn and dump her in a laneway in nearby Dun Laoghaire — cruelly dragging Cynthia along to witness the events.
The mystery of Dun Laoghaire horrified the nation after the body was found a couple of days later. But it wasn’t until her early 20s that Cynthia managed to escape her deprived existence by boarding the ferry to England.
The turning point for her came a couple of years later when she met and fell in love with Simon, the man she is married to today.
They have a 22-year-old son together and live in Britain.
“I remember when I was in school I could see the ferry every day from the classroom window. I was always dreaming of getting away and I used to think, I want to get on that one day.
“Thankfully I did and then Simon came along. I was in my early 30s by the time I sought help — it was Simon who encouraged me to do so. If it hadn’t been for him, I am certain I would not have survived.”
Simon made Cynthia feel safe and secure for the first time in her life and she soon opened up to him.
After hearing the awful truth about his loved-one’s past he spent some time trying to persuade Cynthia to go to the police.
Eventually, one night around the anniversary of the death of her baby in April 1995, she plucked up the courage and rang Dun Laoghaire police station to say that she was the mother of the unidentified baby found 22 years before.
That was the first step in a 15-year fight to get some sort of justice and be officially recognised as the mother of the baby — whom she later named Noleen.
In 2005 an inquest was opened which concluded that the baby was hers.
Twelve jurors agreed that it was Cynthia Owen’s baby and 12 agreed that the place of death was 4 White’s Villas, Dalkey. An open verdict was recorded.
“The coroner’s voice made my heart skip a beat and a silence fell as the foreman of the jury stood up,” she said. “I broke down completely. I felt 11 years old again.
“The words danced in my head. I had finally proven I wasn’t mad, I wasn’t a liar. The room erupted and people started clapping and shouting at the top of their voices. And although it took 32 years for something to come out that I already knew, it was a victory — but at a very dear cost.”
Both Cynthia’s parents died in quick succession after the inquest so they were never brought to task for their actions. And this is something that still grieves her.
“My father was 82 when he died and my mother was 76, I think, when she passed away. I didn’t feel anything for them at all when they died. I never had a proper mum and dad so it didn’t mean a thing to me when I found out. I was more upset because they died free. I felt they died laughing at me and still torturing me. They got away with it. They got off scot-free.”
Cynthia wrote the book as a tribute to her daughter and to give a voice to other victims of abuse, including members of her own family — Michael, Martin and Theresa, who all committed suicide.
She managed to survive her awful ordeal by a combination of love, therapy and faith but says the fallout from it is still evident in her everyday life. She says the book has helped her face up to her past and get on with her future.
Her only condition is that her husband and son never read it.