Suzy Lamplugh's father: 'I wonder how my daughter's life would have turned out'
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The decorations are not yet up, but Paul Lamplugh is looking forward to Christmas. “It’s a very important time,” he says, with a wise smile. “I have seven grandchildren all very close in age.”
Then he adds, with sudden poignancy: “There might have been more, had Suzy not gone missing.”
Lamplugh, a former solicitor aged 86 from East Sheen, south-west London, does not dwell on the thought for long. Ever since his 25-year-old estate agent daughter Suzy disappeared, believed murdered, on July 28 1986, he has displayed a stoic dignity, even though hers has been one of the most high-profile and enduring cases of a missing person in recent times.
No trace of his daughter has ever been found and no one has ever been tried or convicted of her murder, although in 2002, Scotland Yard announced that they believed the serial rapist and killer John Cannan, already serving a life sentence, to be responsible.
It is not something Lamplugh dwells on. He won’t say if he thinks Cannan – or anyone else – is to blame. “It was a good lead. It may be right, I don’t know. The fact is, she is never going to come back – and that is the way it is.”
Suzy always believed life was for the living. It was one of the last things she said before she disappeared
Today, dressed smartly in brick-red shirt, tan sleeveless cardigan and trousers, Lamplugh looks frailer than when we met last year on the 30th anniversary of Suzy’s disappearance. It is not just age he now contends with but also Parkinson’s disease. Yet he is as calmly resolute as ever.
“My grandchildren may well know they once had an Aunt Susan who mysteriously vanished 30 years ago,” he admits, “but I have never talked to them about it.
“My wife Diana and I were determined that the lives of our other children” – Richard, now 57, Tamsin, 54, and Lizzie, 47 – “would not suffer as a result of our loss. Suzy herself always believed life was for the living. It was one of the last things she said to Diana before she disappeared.”
According to the charity Missing People, about 135,000 individuals are reported missing in England and Wales every year, but most will come home within a week. However, for the Lamplughs, it was clear from the start that Suzy was likely to be among the three per cent who don’t.
On that summer day she disappeared, according to a handwritten note in her diary, their beautiful, vivacious daughter had been due to show a house to a Mr Kipper at 12.45pm in Fulham, south-west London. By mid-afternoon, when she hadn’t returned, worried colleagues called Diana at home to see if she knew where Suzy might be. Her white Ford Fiesta was found abandoned nearby later that night, the driver’s door unlocked, the handbrake off and her purse in the glove compartment – but her keys missing.
Lamplugh was working at the Law Society when he received a call from his wife that Suzy was missing. “Diana told me she thought it was something serious and asked me to come home straight away, which I did. We phoned the police – and suddenly the house was full. From then on, every day was chaotic, and there were so many media outside, a friend had to manage them for us.”
He thinks back: “In those days, every day was hard. Life was quite tough.”
The investigation was complicated by the lack of evidence, which meant that the police couldn’t formulate a plan. Over time, hundreds of suspects were interviewed; for a while, it was believed the man she met might have been Dutch, his name Kuiper. But nothing concrete emerged. “Diana and I coped by clinging together.”
They also set up a remarkable charity The Suzy Lamplugh Trust, which teaches personal safety. “Suzy was a confident young woman,” says Lamplugh. “She had worked on the QE2 as a hairdresser, travelling the world, and she knew how to manage herself. The problem was she hadn’t been taught how to keep herself safe.”
He and his wife vowed that even while they searched for Suzy they would support and help others. Indeed, by the first Christmas after Suzy had disappeared, Paul was working for the Trust full-time, which helped him feel both relief and that the essence of his daughter was being honoured. “It’s about helping people to live a full but safe life. I liken it to road safety. We don’t want people to live in fear but to live it well – with knowledge.”
There is no doubt the charity is a tremendous legacy not just for Suzy but also her parents. While Paul ran operations and sourced funding from the couple’s home, Diana became its spokesperson and toured the country giving lectures and seminars, particularly to children; both were awarded OBEs for their work.
Sadly, however, in March 2003, Diana suffered two strokes and was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s, for which she eventually needed specialist care until her death in 2011.
Lamplugh takes comfort that long before her illness, the couple had mutually agreed they needed to move on; Suzy was declared dead in 1994, and at the time Lamplugh said: “It marks a finality. It releases us. It allows us to think of Suzy as dead. We loved her very much, but we need to rebuild our lives.”
Suzy Lamplugh timeline
And although police reviews followed, in 1998, 2000 and in 2002, along with the naming of Cannan as prime suspect, Lamplugh reiterates that it was not only crucial to the family as a whole that they stop living in limbo, but also natural.
He says: “Time passes. You move on. I don’t picture her or daydream about her. Diana and I brought it to an end when we held a press conference at Scotland Yard to announce that we felt we had done all we could to find her.
“You can go on and on and destroy your life and other people’s lives,” he adds. “You have to take control over your life again. But we imagined she would have said, ‘You have done enough.’ And so while it doesn’t stop you thinking, you don’t agonise.”
“I do miss Suzy enormously,” he points out, “particularly nowadays when I would have been grateful for her help. I suppose now I am on my own and I move much more slowly” – he relies on a frame around the house, with daughter Tamsin popping in weekly and taking care of his shopping – “I feel the need for her more.”
But he does not dread Christmas. “It is not a particularly difficult time now.”
And he adds: “She was such a beautiful girl. It’s nice she is remembered. Hopefully, she would have been married to someone lovely with a number of lovely children by now. I do wonder how she would have turned out after 30 years.”