‘New Home Office figures revealed that, since 2007 alone, there had been thirty murders in England and Wales where no body had been recovered,’ he added. ‘But as it currently stands, the English legal system does not require a convicted murderer, at the end of their determined tariff, to admit guilt or reveal the location of a victim’s remains before being released. Marie believes that if parole is granted to Helen’s killer, her hopes of finding her daughter will never be realised.’
I nodded sadly.
Conor had included all three elements of my petition in his Bill. ‘In essence, the proposals are simple: if a convicted killer refuses to give information to reveal the location of a victim’s body, they should not be considered eligible for parole and they should stay in prison. The proposals would effectively mean a whole-life tariff for murderers who refuse to disclose the location of their victims and enable their remains to be recovered to give families a chance to pay their last respects.’
He also stressed that the Bill would not affect any prisoner’s right to maintain their innocence and went on to mention, by name, some of the other victims we were fighting for.
Upstairs, poor Tracy Richardson fled the gallery, sobbing, when her mother’s name was mentioned. She had been just twenty-one when Michelle had vanished while working in Birmingham. Tracy was a mum herself now to two gorgeous boys but that pain, that grief, was still so raw. Without a funeral, some sense of closure, it never goes.
‘For those who have had to face the loss of a loved one at the hands of a callous murderer, there is nothing we can do to make up for their loss, but if there is a way to help them receive the justice they deserve, we must take it,’ said Conor, passionately. ‘If there is a way to compel those who have committed the most awful crimes to assist in this task, we must do it. Most importantly of all, if there is a way to ensure that no family has to endure the suffering that Marie McCourt and so many others have, we – in this of all places – have a duty to act.’
As his final words died away, he sat back down.
I waited, nervously.
The Speaker’s voice rang out: ‘All those in favour?’ The chorused ‘aye’ from all sides of the House, in all tones, was loud, dramatic and melodious.
‘All those not in favour?’
I held my breath, braced myself.
Silence.
‘The ayes have it,’ said John Bercow. ‘The ayes have it.’
It was unanimous, not a single MP objected. We had cross-party support.
I closed my eyes and whispered a prayer of thanks. Upstairs, there were hushed tears and hugs among the families.
Rising to his feet, Conor approached the floor of the House. Then, followed by a team of MPs who would work with him on the Bill, he proceeded to the long oak table on which stood the famous Mace.
Handing the Bill to a clerk, he nodded once – then retreated.
The Speaker announced the Bill would have its second reading on 3 February 2017.
Yes! He’d done it, he’d presented the Bill to the House. We were on our way!
* * *
As more business got underway, I slipped outside to where Conor was waiting. I was tempted to perform a jig up and down the hallowed halls of Westminster but settled for hurrying towards him, my arms outstretched. I was so emotional, I could hardly speak.
‘You were brilliant,’ I whispered, hugging him tightly. ‘Thank you.’
Fiona, John and the families joined us, red-eyed and flushed, but beaming with relieved delight. We all embraced and congratulated Conor.
‘I was really overwhelmed by how many MPs were there,’ Conor told Fiona, who was busily taking notes. ‘That’s really unusual for a private member’s bill. It shows that there is widespread support for this in Parliament. Which is why the Government should take this up and make it the law.
‘Although the next reading has been scheduled I hope, before then, that the Government takes this up and brings it to fruition.’
Outside, we approached the waiting TV cameras – each family holding the photo of their loved one.
My voice wavered with emotion. ‘I am so grateful for all the support we have been given,’ I said. ‘Today was the day I thought would never happen. And to hear Helen’s name mentioned in Parliament was one of the proudest moments of my life.
‘The first reading was very well received. We are hopeful the second reading, in February, will have a successful conclusion. It’s been a long time coming but we are hopeful that, before too long, we might see Helen’s Law become real.’
Writing these words now, I can’t believe how naive I was to think things would happen so quickly. Unbeknown to us, we were about to face a heady mix of hiccups and hurdles – from ministerial resignations to snap General Elections, from Brexit stalemates to a global pandemic. And with every day that passed, Simms was moving ever closer to release.
Chapter 17
Stalemate
W
e were on such a high following the successful first reading of the Bill. Messages of congratulations and support flooded in and petition signatures soared to 400,000.
In November 2016, I was stunned to win the Pride of St Helens Award for my work on the campaign. ‘I wouldn’t be here without your support so this award is for all of you,’ I told the delegation, applauding the entire room. Two further awards from the Liverpool Echo also followed. At another awards presentation, in Liverpool, I was introduced to local artist Anthony Brown who was so moved by my story he said he’d like to create a piece of artwork of Helen for me. The resulting portrait – made up of all the newspaper cuttings and magazine stories that have been written about her – was breath-taking and brilliant. I will always treasure it.
Keen for the Government to now take up Helen’s Law, without having to wait for the Bill to proceed, Conor McGinn urged action in Parliament and requested meetings with the Ministry of Justice. Meanwhile, I continued to give countless interviews stressing how this proposed change in the law was our last and only chance of ever finding our missing murdered loved ones.
‘People think it gets easier but it’s more painful now than it ever was,’ I explained. ‘In those early days, there was always hope . . . Hope that she had been kidnapped, someone would come forward with information or Simms would finally confess.
‘But all hope has long gone. A change in the law is all we have left to end this sheer and utter hell.’
In December 2016, I was delighted to hear that a third Australian state, Victoria, had introduced No Body No Parole laws. Maybe the UK would be next?
For New Year, John and I returned to India. We’d made good friends there and they rejoiced that we were finally getting somewhere.
Logging onto the change.org petition page to see the numbers continue to rise and read the comments below became addictive. One girl, now living in Spain, wrote: ‘That picture is just how I remember Helen. I often travelled on the same bus. She was such a lovely girl. I wish I could sign this petition a million times for you both.’
Bless you, love, I thought.
* * *
On 3 February 2017, just six days before the twenty-ninth anniversary of Helen’s murder, we set off for London for the second reading.
I appeared on BBC Breakfast News and the Victoria Derbyshire show on BBC2, before meeting with our families once again and filing into the hushed public gallery.
At 2.30pm, Conor McGinn rose to his feet: ‘My Bill to introduce Helen’s Law was due to be read a second time today. Unfortunately, but not unexpectedly, that has not happened.
‘I thank the 400,000 members of the public who signed the petition, and I particularly want to recognise the families of victims who have travelled to be in Parliament today.’
He pointed out there was ‘lots of support for it on both sides of the House and I am working with the Government. Today is not the day, but there will be a day for Helen’s Law.’
Madam Deputy Speaker, Eleanor Laing, said she appreciated ‘th
at it is sometimes difficult for those who do not have a full grasp of parliamentary procedures’.
You don’t say! I thought. What was there to grasp? It was due to be read today, so why the hold-up?
She continued: ‘The fact that this Bill has not been read today is not an indication that it is not held in high esteem. The points he [Conor McGinn] would have made would, I am sure, have had a lot of support in this house. What he is trying to achieve is very, very worthy. But as he said, there will be another day . . . ’
And that was that. For some reason I’m still struggling to fathom the Bill was objected to and adjourned to 24 February. We left, deflated.
Over time, I learned that only a handful of bills ever actually had a second reading; each was scheduled in the hope that the Government would take it up independently – at which point the MP would take the Bill off the table. That is why, behind the scenes, Conor McGinn was urging the Ministry of Justice (MOJ) to act.
On 24 February, the reading was adjourned yet again for another month. However, this time, the MOJ confirmed that it had asked the Parole Board for a review of guidelines and assured MPs that the Government was taking the issue seriously.
For the next scheduled reading, I saved time and money on wasted train fares by watching proceedings on Parliament Live. Once again, the reading was adjourned, this time to Friday, 12 May.
I shook my head, exasperated.
How on earth does anything get done in that place? I wondered.
In April, Conor told me there was talk of making Helen’s Law an amendment to the Justice Bill. He had been working behind the scenes and there were about fifty Conservative MPs all willing to support it.
Please God, I thought, crossing my fingers.
Then, just after Easter, disaster struck. The television was on in the background when a newsflash filled the screen: Theresa May had called a snap General Election.
A prickle of unease crept up my spine as a political expert explained some of the impacts. ‘Parliament will be dissolved and, of course, all unresolved Bills will now “fall”,’ he said. Snatching my iPad, I hurriedly googled ‘what happens when a Bill falls?’
The answer left me slumped in my chair. It’s abandoned. Let go. Dropped from a height. In despair, I rang Conor McGinn.
‘Can’t they just put it on hold?’ I pleaded.
Apparently not. Once a Bill falls, that’s it. It has to be restarted from scratch in a new Parliament. Helen’s Law, along with all the other outstanding Bills, would be kicked into oblivion.
An amendment to the Justice Bill also looked unlikely. Who knew which MPs would get voted back in? And there’d be a mass shuffle of Ministers afterwards – there always was.
I could have wept.
‘All that work and effort. For what?’ I fumed.
Conor assured me all was not lost. Once the dust had settled and a new Government was in place, we would continue to lobby the MOJ. But with every day that passed, Simms was coming that bit closer to release.
Thank heavens, then, for a miraculous result for one of our families. For all these years so many of us had dreamed of receiving news that our loved one had been found.
And for one grieving daughter it had finally happened.
I was just leaving my Pilates class in February 2017 when Anita Giles rang out of the blue. ‘Marie,’ she said breathlessly. ‘The police in South Wales have found a body. It’s a woman. They think it could be Mum.’
By complete chance, Wentwood Reservoir in South Wales, seventeen miles away from her murdered mother’s home, was being drained for the first time in nearly a century for maintenance works. As the water level dropped, a passing dog walker spotted a body at the bottom of the lake and raised the alarm.
It took five weeks for DNA tests to be carried out and dental records checked. Then Anita rang me again. ‘Marie, it’s Mum,’ she said emotionally.
My heart lurched sideways. ‘Oh Anita,’ I breathed. ‘I am so, so, pleased that she’s been found for you.’
I could sense the maelstrom of emotions surging down the telephone line; both her relief and renewed grief, but also heartache, anguish and guilt that, while her nightmare was now over, mine was still ongoing.
‘I just hope Helen is found for you, Marie,’ she said. ‘I really do.’
Sandie’s body had been weighed down with a heavy ceramic sink. (So much for Bowen’s claim that she had fallen overboard). An inquest ruled she had been killed unlawfully. I gather local police discussed the case with the CPS but no further charges resulted. Surely, if there was a case crying out for additional charges of preventing a burial and obstructing a coroner it was this?
In April 2017, Anita was finally able to give her mother a proper, dignified goodbye. Four months later, on the twentieth anniversary of Sandie’s murder, she scattered her mum’s ashes at a favourite beach they’d both loved when Anita was growing up.
Having that closure has made the world of difference to Anita and we couldn’t be happier for her. The discovery of her mum’s body has given us all renewed hope that, one day, we’ll be getting that same knock on the door. For it finally to be over.
One day.
* * *
The General Election, on 8 June 2017, was a disaster for Theresa May – leaving her with a hung Parliament.
Conor McGinn, along with Linda Jones’ MP, Stephen Metcalfe, were, thankfully, voted back in and tried to secure us a meeting with the new Minister for Justice, but with just a few weeks before the summer recess and Brexit dominating everything, we were back to square one on that Snakes and Ladders board.
In August, Queensland became the fourth state to pass No Body No Parole laws.
‘So, what’s happening in the UK?’ Margaret Dodd enquired.
‘Don’t ask,’ I sighed.
Throughout the autumn, John and I continued to work with SAMM Merseyside in supporting families. Our geographical area now included most of the North, plus North Wales and the Isle of Man. We’d grown incredibly close to one elderly lady, in Wales, who had lost her only son to murder. When she became terminally ill, we stepped up our visits and were comforted when she slipped from this world peacefully, and with dignity – a right denied to so many of our loved ones.
With the thirtieth anniversary of Helen’s murder approaching it was more important than ever to keep fighting. We’d endured three long lonely decades without her in our lives. No other family should have their lives destroyed like this, I vowed.
Anyone who had ever known Helen was invited to a commemorative mass at our local church. Her marble seat was decorated with lanterns and yellow ribbons. Not only was a yellow ribbon the international symbol for a missing person but it was also Helen’s favourite colour and represented her lovely sunny nature. It became our symbol for Helen’s Law.
That night, 400 relatives, schoolfriends, colleagues, retired police officers who had worked on the case and supporters streamed into the church. Fresh yellow blooms filled every windowsill. A local florist had made a beautiful display of golden daffodils especially for the altar.
The words in the Gospel reading ‘Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for justice. They will be satisfied,’ and ‘Blessed are those who mourn. For they shall be comforted’ had never felt more apt.
Afterwards, we all gathered in the church hall, where Helen’s familiar portrait took pride of place on an easel on the stage. Throughout the evening, I’d catch guests gazing, transfixed, at the showreel of photos being played on a giant screen – there was Helen as a baby, having her first drink at eighteen, laughing with her brother, always laughing.
Nervously taking the microphone, I thanked everyone for coming. ‘Tonight, I can smile,’ I said. ‘I’m normally crying when it’s Helen’s anniversary – but not tonight.
‘I really am humbled that thirty years on, you all have put things aside in your busy lives and come out on a really, really cold night to be here for Helen.’
My voice wavered as I added
, ‘She may not be here in body but she’s certainly here in spirit, I know that.’
Then I urged them to keep supporting the campaign: ‘Every one of us in this room has lost someone we love. Knowing that they have had that last service and that last goodbye helps you to deal with your grief and go forwards. Sadly, all of our families don’t.
‘Please keep signing and sharing the petition. To have half a million people saying this law needs to be changed would make such a difference. Your support will help so many other families in the future.’
Then Conor McGinn took up the mic and gave the loveliest speech recalling how I had impressed him with ‘my dignity, integrity, strength, warmth, selflessness and caring for others’ the first time we met, and how he felt proud and humbled to represent such a loyal, caring community.
‘We will keep fighting for Helen’s Law,’ he vowed. ‘I think we are making progress. It’s been slow and it’s been frustrating, but I’m confident we’re going to get there and if the spirit involved tonight helps us get there then that will be all the better.’
Then, turning to me, he added: ‘Marie, you’ve taught me a great lesson in valuing, caring about and treasuring every moment with the people you love and I’m very grateful to you for doing that. As I left home tonight, I hugged and kissed my children. I feel very lucky and very glad to have them, and you, in my life, so thank you.’
Applause rang out as we hugged.
‘Thank you – for everything,’ I told him.
Two months later, in April 2018, Conor organised a Day of Action for Helen’s Law at Westminster. By then, yet another state – Western Australia – where Margaret Dodd lived had passed No Body No Parole.
It was an unseasonably scorching day as we gathered in a room for MPs to pledge their support. I lost count of just how many politicians I was introduced to and photographed with.
Later, we marched to Downing Street to present signatures now totalling 440,000, including 8,000 letters from readers of Take a Break magazine, which had come on board.
Finally, came the most nerve-racking part of the day: a meeting with David Gauke – the Justice Minister himself.
Justice for Helen Page 28