A woman spoke out — because someone had to

AS a child of six or seven, Monica Rowe skipped up to the local shop on an errand for her father, an adventure that took her no more than one hundred yards from her home.

It was the kind of neighbourhood and time where people could leave their front door open without fear of intrusion and children could roam around freely in play without threat of interference.

At the door of the shop, a man drove up beside her and beckoned her inside his car. Monica obeyed, cheerfully informing the man that her house was only down the road. He panicked, shoved her out the door, and drove off.