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I confess! Guilt ridden mums own up to leaving their young children all on their own

Published: 19:44 EST, 22 September 2015 | Updated: 20:35 EST, 22 September 2015

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Strictly star Rachel Stevens caused controversy this week when she was pictured leaving her two young daughters alone in the car for ten minutes while she went into the shops. While it is not illegal to leave a child alone in a car, the former S Club 7 singer has been branded 'irresponsible'. But she's not the only one to have done it. Here, other mums confess ...

Lucy Cavendish: 'I will never leave them alone in the car again'

My three nearly drove off a cliff: BY LUCY CAVENDISH

It was during our summer holiday in France this year that disaster nearly struck. It was baking hot and I had carted loads of bags down to the beach, full of towels, parasols, water and snacks. I parked the car under a tree and off we went.

A few hours later — bad-tempered and somewhat burned — my three children and I struggled back to the cliff-top car park.

Leonard, 12, Jerry, 11, and Ottoline, eight, were exhausted. No one wanted to carry any bags, so we reached a compromise. We would all cart the bags halfway and then the children would go to the car and wait for me. ‘If you give me the keys,’ said Leonard, ‘I’ll start it up and put on the air-con so it’s cool when you get there.’

This sounded like a good idea. So we did the first halfway stint and then the kids scampered up the hill to the car. I took the first lot of bags up and then set off for the next load. It can’t have been much more than ten minutes when I went up with the third load.

Suddenly I saw a car shooting forwards towards the cliff top. ‘That’s a bit dangerous,’ I thought.

That’s when I realised it was my car — my car with my children in it rolling towards the edge of the cliff. I panicked. I threw down the bags and started shouting, running towards the car as fast as I could. Then I saw Leonard fly out of the car. ‘The handbrake!’ he was yelling.

Then I saw Jerry appearing out of the other side. ‘Ottoline can’t get her seat belt off,’ he shouted. The next thing I knew, a young Frenchman appeared, leapt into the car and put the handbrake on.

By now, Leonard (who’d released the handbrake in the first place) was in tears. We all were. I thanked the man profusely and hugged the children tight. I will never leave them alone in the car again.

Clover Stroud: 'Being reported to the police shocked me'

I got a warning from the police: BY CLOVER STROUD

I recently left my two youngest children — Dash, one, and Evangeline, three — asleep in their seats while I went to the supermarket for 20 minutes. The car was parked in a car park and I could see both children through the windows of the supermarket.

It wasn’t a hot day, but I left a crack of window open, and locked the doors. Waking them to drag them into the supermarket would have caused tears and tantrums I wanted to avoid — for their sake, as well as all the other shoppers.

When I returned, both children were sleeping peacefully and I dismissed a lingering sense of guilt until I received a call from my local police force, relating to ‘the welfare of the children’. Someone had reported me.

The officer dealing with my case gave me a telling-off, but when he admitted he also had two young children, I pushed him on what he would have done. He demurred, reminding me that the safety of my children was paramount.

Being reported to the police shocked me and now I think twice about leaving the children in the car. But while it doesn’t make me feel comfortable, I know that it’s something I’ll do again.

Julia Lawrence: 'We always got away with it'

I lied to my little girl's teacher: BY JULIA LAWRENCE

Geography was to blame. The proximity of my three-year-old daughter Lois’s nursery school was just too tempting — and the 3.30pm pick-up always seemed to clash with her one-year-old baby brother Joe’s nap time.

The school was a ten-minute walk, or five-minute sprint, away. I’d watch the clock inching towards 3.20pm, with Joe deep in the land of nod in his cot, and the devil on my shoulder would start whispering: ‘It seems a shame to disturb him. What harm will it do? You’ll be back before he wakes. No one will know!’

So I’d gently close the front door, then run as fast as my lungs would allow, grab Lois — exchange a few pleasantries with her teacher . . . ‘The baby? Oh, he’s fine thanks. Back home with his auntie’ — and then march home, as fast as Lois’s little legs could carry her.

All the time I’d imagine burglars, child-snatchers or self-combusting washing machines. Every time I’d swear it was the last time I’d do it.

We always got away with it: Joe was always still where I’d left him, sleeping, obliviously.

Of course, the moment Joe became mobile, and could haul himself up on the rungs of his cot, my habit had to stop, and he was dragged, bawling, from his afternoon snooze and wrestled into his pushchair, which was far more traumatic for both of us than his illicit 30 minutes ‘home alone’ had ever been.

Anna Maxted: 'I now felt like a bad mother twice over. But at least they were both in one piece'

I gave in to guilt after 3 minutes: BY ANNA MAXTED

I was aghast when a friend left her sleeping baby in the car, in the car park of a soft play centre, while her toddlers ran riot for an hour. How confident she must be in her own luck, I thought. I had just one precious baby who was rarely out of my sight.

Fast-forward four years and Oscar was five, Conrad was three, and I was pregnant with my third. Exhaustion was redefined. I’d booked Oscar in for swimming lessons in West London. As I drove to the pool, Conrad fell asleep, and an evil thought crossed my mind: ‘Just leave him in the car — it will be so much easier.’

I parked in the private car park close to the building, locked the car, and hustled Oscar into the hot, crowded changing room. Bliss, not to be heaving that cumbersome ‘portable’ car-seat and, oh, the luxury of being able to concentrate on one child.

But, of course, I couldn’t concentrate on just one child, because I was lousy with guilt and wild imaginings about the other.

What if the car alarm went off? What if Conrad awoke and was frightened to find himself alone? What if I returned to a smashed window and an empty car?

Three wretched minutes after abandoning my three-year-old, I abandoned his five-year-old brother, half-naked in the changing room, instead. I ran puffing to the car and retrieved Conrad, a still-sleeping angel.

Returning to Oscar, whose lip was trembling, with my heart pounding, I now felt like a bad mother twice over. But at least they were both in one piece.

Charlotte Kemp: 'Thankfully, no harm was done and we learnt our lesson'

You're not meant to leave me, mum: BY CHARLOTTE KEMP

On the night in question, I still like to argue that there were mitigating circumstances. After spending six nights of a much-needed holiday playing cards in the hotel en suite bathroom while our toddler and baby snoozed in the bedroom next door, my husband Tom and I were going stir crazy.

So on our final evening, we came up with the seemingly sensible plan to sneak off to the restaurant downstairs for a quick meal once Amelia, then three, and Bea, ten months, were safely tucked up in bed.

Both girls had slept soundly all week — exhausted after a day of swimming and sun. They wouldn’t even know that we were gone, we reasoned in our desperation for some semblance of proper adult time.

Our room on the first floor of the small, family-run Majorcan hotel was only a flight of stairs away. We’d check on them every half an hour. What could possibly happen?

So once they had fallen asleep, we tiptoed out, locked the door and guiltily headed downstairs to civilisation. But it was when my turn came to check on them — somewhere between the starter and main course — that I heard an all-too-familiar voice as I climbed the stairs to our room.

The sound stopped my heart in its tracks. Amelia had woken up, managed to open the bedroom door and having been found wandering about the landing looking for mummy, was holding court in the corridor, telling fellow guests all about herself.

She sounded calm enough. But as soon as she caught sight of me, she burst into tears and exclaimed indignantly: ‘You’re not meant to leave me on my own, Mummy!’

Caught red-handed, I tried to bluff it and told Amelia that I’d just popped down to the reception for two minutes. But I fear my wine-rosy cheeks and garlic breath gave the game away. Thankfully, no harm was done and we learnt our lesson.

Flick Everett: 'I must have done it three times at the most'

I made sneaky trips to the shop: BY FLIC EVERETT

Almost 20 years ago, I was a single mother with my three-year-old son, Wolf. I wouldn’t countenance anyone who didn’t love him looking after him while I went out to work, so his daily life was a comforting round of responsible grandmas.

By evening, it was just me in charge — and because I was somewhat chaotic, I’d occasionally realise that I’d run out of bread or milk after I’d put him into his pyjamas.

So I’d station him at the window looking down onto the corner shop at the end of our road, with strict instructions not to move. Then I’d run backwards down the steps and into the shop, so I could still see him. If there was a queue, I’d hang half-outside the shop until it had died down, waving all the time.

I must have done it three times at the most, and I never took longer than ten minutes.

But looking back, I feel sick with guilt. What if there had been a robbery at the shop? Or I’d fallen down the steps? What if he’d turned the oven on while I was gone?

He didn’t, and I remained able-bodied. But I wouldn’t do it now.

Shona Sibary: 'She thrived on the feeling of excitement and independence it gave her'

Two hours alone at 9? It did her good: BY SHONA SIBARY

I once left my eldest child, Florence, then nine, alone in the house for two hours.

Her younger brother and sister were at school, but she had an inset day and I wanted to do a 10km run.

Did I dither? Not for long.

As the oldest sibling, Flo was mature for her age, risk-averse and a TV addict.

She wasn’t going to set fire to the curtains or climb out of a window.

She was simply going to stay on the sofa with a packet of crisps.

I did, however, forbid her from going outside, answering the front door, or microwaving anything.

And she knew, if there was an emergency, she could go to our neighbour for help.

Flo was fine. In fact, she thrived on the feeling of excitement and independence it gave her.

Alice Smellie: 'The logistics of a newborn, a two-year-old and a three-year-old were dreadful at the best of times'

Baby set off the car alarm: BY ALICE SMELLIE

I’d been standing in the petrol station kiosk queue for at least five minutes when my car alarm went off. Everyone looked out of the window and huffed.

But I hadn’t taken my eyes off my now flashing and beeping Volvo for one second.

Evidently my six-month-old baby daughter, Lara — strapped into her car seat alongside her two older brothers Archie, then three, and Oscar, two — had stirred.

I knew that her movements would have set off the alarm, jerking her into horrified wakefulness. I had a choice.

Brazen it out and pay for my petrol, or run back to the car, grab the (by now) screaming baby and hurtle back in, braving the disgust of the snaking queue.

I was two people away from the front and I’m afraid I stayed put.

Consider the alternative. The logistics of a newborn, a two-year-old and a three-year-old were dreadful at the best of times.

Weighing up the dangers, it always seemed safer to leave them firmly strapped in rather than risk life and limb walking across a petrol station forecourt with two little boys who found it highly amusing to run away from me.