THERE cannot be a parent in the country who, in the past two weeks, has not felt the urge to reach out and clutch their young children close as they watched them racing ahead on their bikes through the park, lingering for a few moments on their own over toys in a shop, or playing happily outside in the street, just as they have always done.

In their world, evil comes in the shape of green-eyed monsters in the dark, wicked witches or Harry Potter's Voldemort. We are constantly reassuring them that there are no such things as ghosts or vampires or werewolves.

But, as parents, we are aware that real danger can come in the shape of a normal-looking adult in an apparently safe, familiar setting in the cold light of day. This is the truly monstrous fear which lurks, deep, in the back of adult minds and which has, tragically, reared its ugly head again with the death of Sarah Payne.

We all empathise with Sarah's family. We can't help but imagine how we would feel if it were our child. Didn't we feel the same after the murder of Jamie Bulger? Didn't anxious parents of toddlers everywhere strap them to their wrists with leads and reins for fear that a stranger would snatch them in the shops? In time, we relaxed. The following year, there weren't so many leads and reins. The hideous monster had retreated to the backs of our minds. Which is where we hoped he would stay.

Now, most youngsters are aware of what happened to Sarah Payne. My seven-year-old heard the news on the radio and told me: "Mum, that girl who went missing was murdered." At their primary school prize-giving this week, we all said a prayer for Sarah and her family.

Most children seem to have accepted it. They don't appear scared. Because to them, coming across the sort of monster who killed Sarah Payne seems about as unreal as the thought that they might encounter a man-eating giant or the creature from the black lagoon.

Let them believe that. Such a crime is still, thankfully, rare. We don't want our children to feel fearful of riding their bikes, running along a country path or playing in the park with friends. We should be sensible and cautious. But we must resist the urge to cling too tightly. We will never forget what happened to Sarah Payne. But now we must push that awful monster to the backs of our minds once more.

Let us learn to live with the hideous beast, while our children, oblivious, enjoy what precious freedom they still have.

MANY have declared the Queen a closet feminist after she interrupted some female MPs discussing the stress of parliamentary life. "I had no choice. I couldn't give up my job to look after my children," she said. But I am not so sure. Couldn't she have meant that, given half the chance, she would have happily stayed at home, up to her elbows in dirty nappies? I suspect she has been rattled by recent accusations that she was a bad mother. I cannot think of a worse criticism and, of anything that has ever been said or written about her, nothing can have hurt as much as this. I am not sure what makes a good mother. Most of us probably feel we can never be quite good enough. Probably the only people qualified to make a judgement are our own children. In her role as mother, the Queen doesn't have to answer to us.

MOST people who have twins find the first few years tough. The last thing they would plan is to have another baby after just six months. Yet the wealthy gay couple who paid to have surrogate twins, who are looked after by two nannies, are now expecting triplets with another surrogate. Which only confirms the view that they are merely collecting children as they would classic cars or Gucci shoes.