Becky

by Darren Galsworthy

  ‘It’s been absolute hell on earth,’ I said. ‘I’ve not been able to eat or sleep since she’s gone missing. We just need her back home. Someone out there knows something. I just want my girl back, that’s all. I just want her back.’

  Then I took a moment to speak to my daughter, in the hope that she could somehow hear the interview. ‘Bex, if you are able, just come home,’ I pleaded. ‘You aren’t going to get told off or anything. Just come home. We need you home here. You are a total part of our life.’

  The media attention on our family was ramping up. There was a huge amount of interest in us, and whenever I looked outside I could see a huddle of reporters and photographers, waiting for a few words or a picture of us. Most times when I left the house I was accompanied by a police officer or a member of my family, but I stopped now and then to give a quote to reporters. I knew that they had a job to do, and the more publicity we got, the more it was going to help us find Becky. All the same, I couldn’t help feeling that the press attention was invasive. I kept thinking to myself that Becky would have hated being in the spotlight like that.

  After the radio interview, I resumed my position at the computer. I had never spent as much time on Facebook as I did during those days. I sat there for hours, sharing pictures of Becky and anything else I could find – including the video of us doing our ‘Atomic Curry Challenge’. I ended up watching that video over and over again. I couldn’t take my eyes off Becky, laughing and joking around, being cheeky to her old man. I would have given anything to be in that moment with her once again, rather than sitting at my computer watching her helplessly, tears rolling down my cheeks.

  That night, I lay in bed, hoping to get some sleep but knowing that it probably wouldn’t come. My mind was exhausted, full of gruesome images of what might have happened to Becky. Mostly, I imagined that she had been kidnapped and raped. I knew there were some vile people in the world, and maybe my little girl was out there somewhere and she needed me. I got up in the middle of the night and stared hard at myself in the bathroom mirror. I looked wretched, my eyes red and swollen, with huge bags underneath.

  ‘Where is my daughter? Where is she?’ I asked out loud, staring at my reflection like a madman.

  The next morning, on Wednesday, 25 February, in desperation I posted something on Facebook that I believed could help us find Becky, or at least get people thinking. Becky, Anjie and I were so close, we practically lived in each other’s pockets. As I always did the family food shop, Becky would ask me to pick up stuff she needed – including personal items. I knew that she was having her period the week she went missing, as she had asked me to get some tampons for her. I was becoming more and more anxious about what might have happened, who might have taken her and what they might have done to her, and I was going to stop at nothing to find out, so I wrote: ‘This is a message to all wives, mothers and girlfriends. It was my baby girl’s time of the month, so if you have washed any blood from your partner’s or son’s underwear and they can’t explain it, please report it. Please imagine: if this was your child, what would you do?’

  The next day, some of the newspapers ran the message and described it as ‘disturbing’. I was furious at the idea that my post might be seen as anything but a desperate dad appealing to the public for any information possible. Perhaps some other fathers don’t have the same relationship with their children, but Becky and I were close enough for me to know when she was having her period. Looking back, maybe it was a little odd, but while I was in the agonising grip of despair and frustration it made perfect sense.

  Joe and Sam had organised a public search that Wednesday, to run alongside the police investigation. They appealed on social media and through the press for people to help.

  A few hours before the search was due to get underway, Russ and Jo came round to speak to Anjie and me.

  ‘We’ll need to bring a forensic team into the house to do a more thorough search, if that’s OK,’ Russ said. ‘It means that you guys will have to stay somewhere else tonight. If you pack an overnight bag, we will take you somewhere now.’

  ‘Why do we have to leave our home? I don’t understand,’ I complained. She obviously wasn’t there so why were they looking in the house? The thought flashed through my mind that maybe I was a suspect. I knew they’d interviewed Luke, Adam and all Becky’s friends, but there was no question of them being anything to do with it. I supposed they were just being thorough, but I wished they would focus on finding her instead of investigating the family.

  Anjie and I threw together a change of clothing, our pyjamas and toothbrushes, and we were taken away in an unmarked police car to a hotel in the centre of Bristol. Our car and computer were going to be examined as well, so we couldn’t use them. I knew the police were just doing their jobs and they needed us out of the way, but it wasn’t a pleasant experience being turfed out of our home like that. Photographers bustled around the gate, taking pictures of us as we left. I stopped to give a quick quote to a reporter, who asked me what I thought of the public’s attempts to help us find Becky.

  I said, ‘I’m very grateful for the support from the public. The search was organised by my brother, and I hope lots of people turn out for it. I can’t say anything else right now, as I have to go.’

  I wanted to join the search because I was desperate to feel like I was doing something useful. I had spent hour after hour sitting at the computer and on the phone, and it had started to take its toll on me. I needed to be out there, physically looking for my little girl.

  I asked Anjie to wait by the phone while I went to meet all my side of the family, who had gathered at the bottom of our street. To my amazement, around a hundred people turned up. Nathan and Shauna weren’t there, but I assumed it was because they had to look after their kid. When I thought about it, I realised that they hadn’t done much to help since Becky had gone missing, but, to be honest, they weren’t really the type to pitch in and help other people. That’s just the way they were.

  I was humbled that afternoon by the amount of people who did want to help my family. Neighbours and strangers alike seemed genuinely concerned about where Becky might be, and it made me grateful and proud to be a Bristolian. My bosses – Jeremy, John, Lee, Andy and Tony – even let all my colleagues take the day off work to join the search party. I felt completely indebted to them for that.

  Sam and Joe split everyone into groups and coordinated them so that each group took on a different patch in the city. It was a freezing cold day, but people were resilient; they wrapped up warmly and got on with it. We walked miles that day. We combed every public park, every residential street, and we stopped every single person that we passed. We gave out hundreds and hundreds of flyers, all with Becky’s beautiful face on them. Every time I pushed one into somebody’s hand, I made sure I met their eyes with mine. I wanted them to understand how important it was that we found Becky and brought her home safely.

  ‘Oh, you’re the father of the poor girl,’ a woman exclaimed as I gave her a flyer, and I nodded. To my surprise, she threw her arms around me in a touching display of compassion.

  ‘I hope you find her,’ she said.

  I was amazed that Becky’s disappearance had touched people so deeply. It frequently brought me to tears that day.

  As we trudged across all sorts of terrain, I turned to my brother Joe.

  ‘Thank you for everything, buddy,’ I said, and he put his arm around me reassuringly.

  ‘We’ll find her, Dar,’ he vowed.

  I wished so hard that I could believe him, but at this point I was losing faith fast.

  ‘I don’t think I’ve ever felt so desperate and low in my whole life,’ I confided, and he looked at me sympathetically and nodded.

  ‘Just don’t give up yet, Dar, all right?’ he replied, giving me a squeeze. ‘The worst thing we can do now is give up.’

  We didn’t stop looking until every last leaflet had been handed out and we had walked as far as we possibly could. At t
he end of the search a number of items were handed to police officers, including a pair of shoes, a notebook, a jumper and a blue T-shirt. Someone also spotted a bag buried in a hedge, covered in leaves, which was examined by forensics officers that night.

  When I got back to the hotel, Anjie was anxiously waiting for me.

  ‘Did you have any luck?’ she asked hopefully, and I shook my head.

  ‘Not really, love,’ I said, taking her hand. ‘Lots of people were out there helping us, though.’

  ‘Nothing here either,’ she sighed, pointing to the phone. ‘Do you want something to eat or drink?’

  I shook my head. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been able to eat more than a few mouthfuls of food or drink more than a sip of cola. I could tell I was losing weight rapidly, because when I got dressed all my clothes felt looser, but the idea of eating was unappealing. I couldn’t taste food. Our desperate need to find Becky completely consumed me, and anything else seemed pointless.

  Our hotel stay was extended from one night to two, and then three, with police saying that we couldn’t return home because they needed more time to examine the house. We only had one change of clothes and nothing else, so Russ and Jo gave us £100 to buy some new clothes, and the force also paid for our food and drink while we were at the hotel, as well as giving us a hire car to use.

  Everything was surreal. I hated not being able to walk into Becky’s room and feel her presence around me. I worried that if she returned home, as unlikely as that now seemed, she might panic when she realised that Anjie and I weren’t there. Most of all I hated just sitting in that hotel room, waiting and waiting, with nothing to do but watch television and pace up and down.

  Over the next few days, forensic officers continued to comb our home for clues, and specialist sniffer dogs were brought in. Avon and Somerset Police enlisted the help of other police forces from South Wales and Wiltshire, and the searches were stepped up. They even went as far as wading through ponds in the nearby public parks. A laptop was discovered in woodland, not far from our home, and for a short while they thought it could be a breakthrough in the case – but it was soon discounted. The main thing the detectives said they were concerned about was that there had been no sightings of Becky whatsoever after she had left our house. It seemed incredibly odd and mysterious that not one neighbour, not one passing motorist had seen her that morning, and she wasn’t in any CCTV footage, either. How could she just have vanished?

  On 27 February, Russ and Jo took Anjie and me to the police station to get some extra details from us. They took us into separate rooms, and I spoke to a few different detectives, who quizzed me on my family’s dynamic. I was confused by this line of questioning. I had expected more questions about Becky, but instead the officers seemed intent on focusing on the rest of us.

  They started by asking me how our family worked, who was related to whom, and then they starting asking if we all got on with each other.

  As well as asking me what my relationship with Becky was like, they quizzed me on Anjie, Nathan, Danny and Shauna, and how they interacted with her.

  ‘Do Nathan and Becky get along?’ they asked, and I shrugged.

  ‘They fight occasionally, like any siblings do,’ I answered. ‘Nathan used to get jealous of Becky’s relationship with his mum, which is natural.’

  I thought again before adding, ‘Becky is quite disapproving of Nathan and Shauna being in the house all the time. She thinks they scrounge off us financially and in terms of getting fed. Half the time, I agree with her.’

  ‘And what about Shauna?’ they asked.

  ‘Shauna and Becky get on all right,’ I said. ‘Shauna is like family to us now. She’s always around the house with our grandchild.’

  They seemed intent on talking about Nathan and Shauna, and I quickly got irritated with the line of questioning.

  ‘Excuse me, but what has this got to do with anything?’ I snapped.

  ‘Mr Galsworthy,’ a male officer began. ‘We have to know everything there is to know about the family in order to investigate fully.’

  I suddenly lost my rag. I was feeling exhausted and drained, and I felt that they were wasting time by interrogating me about things that didn’t even matter.

  ‘Becky left the house and didn’t return. The rest of my family have been at home with me, helping police and taking part in the searches,’ I thundered. ‘Nathan is my son and Shauna is like a daughter to me.

  ‘My family have nothing to do with this. We know nothing, and we have all told you as much. Your questions are pointless. Please stop focusing on our family and get out there, do your jobs and find my daughter.’

  I wasn’t proud of my outburst. I knew the police were trying their hardest to find Becky, but in that moment I couldn’t help but feel defensive of my family. In my opinion, we were suffering enough without being made to feel like criminals at the same time.

  Chapter 9

  The arrests

  Anjie and I stayed in three different hotels and an apartment while the search for Becky continued. On 2 March we were moved to a small hotel mainly used for airport passengers, just off the A38. It suited us to be out of Bristol city centre because the attention on Becky’s disappearance was huge by this point, and sometimes a bit overwhelming. Her face was still plastered over every local and national paper, and we couldn’t go for a drink at the hotel bar without seeing the story flash up on television. People recognised our faces in the city, and even though most didn’t approach us, I could tell they were staring. I preferred to hide away as much as possible.

  Being away from the house was hard, though. I struggled to sleep in a bed that wasn’t my own – not that I was sleeping much anyway. Every day that passed made me feel more empty and desperate. Anjie was finding it difficult too. Some days, she could hardly get out of bed, she was so weak and exhausted, and she spoke very slowly, her brain feeling foggy, which was frightening for both of us. Our daily routine was pretty much: get up, try to force down some breakfast (something I never managed) then wait for updates from Jo and Russ, with daytime TV on in the background.

  On Saturday, 28 February, we were informed that the police were questioning Nathan and Shauna over Becky’s disappearance. We weren’t told much more than that and, to be honest, I was instantly dismissive of it. I knew the police had to follow every line of enquiry, including speaking to all the family members, so I didn’t think it amounted to anything more. I was sure that they wouldn’t get much out of Nathan and Shauna. The pair didn’t seem to know anything about what had happened, and they were too wrapped up in themselves to care very much anyway.

  On the morning of Tuesday, 3 March, everything changed. We were in our hotel room when Anjie’s mobile phone rang. She mouthed to me that it was Russ. I rolled my eyes, thinking that he was calling to give us the usual update – that Becky was still missing and the police were no closer to finding out where she was. I was wrong.

  ‘What’s going on?’ asked Anjie. There was something different in her voice, urgency – worry. ‘Is there any news?’

  She listened intently, looking across at me. After she hung up, Anjie stared at me in shock and confusion.

  ‘What’s the matter, love? What’s happening?’ I asked.

  She gazed at the phone in her hand for a few seconds then looked up at me, tears in her eyes.

  ‘They’ve arrested Nathan and Shauna,’ she said.

  I stared at her in disbelief, then a wave of irritation washed over me. ‘What the hell?’ I said. ‘That’s got to be a mistake. Why on earth go after the family instead of doing their fucking jobs properly and finding Becky?’

  ‘It doesn’t make any sense,’ she replied, shaking her head. ‘What on earth do they think they’ve done? Nathan wouldn’t do anything.’

  ‘It’s bullshit, Anj,’ I said. ‘Absolute bullshit. It’s so typical to go after the family instead of actually doing what they need to do. They’re completely in the wrong. Those two are just an eas
y target.’

  As we waited for them to arrive, my mind was doing somersaults. Russ hadn’t said on the phone why they had arrested Nathan and Shauna. A thousand thoughts popped into my head, but the outstanding one was that it must be some kind of mistake.

  Russ and Jo came straight to the room and knocked on the door. I answered and waved them in, before sitting back down on the bed. I noticed that they both looked even more solemn than usual.

  Russ nodded towards the television, which was on in the background.

  ‘Do you mind turning that off for a minute?’ he asked, and I grabbed the remote and did as I was told.

  There was an uneasy silence in the room as Anjie and I waited for them to speak. It was unbearable.

  ‘So, why have you arrested those two?’ I blurted out.

  Russ took a deep breath before speaking. ‘Nathan is being very uncooperative with us at the moment,’ he said.

  I laughed a bit too loudly.

  ‘Well, he’s going to be, isn’t he?’ I muttered. ‘This is ridiculous.’

  Jo and Russ looked at each other, and I could tell there was something they weren’t telling me.

  ‘There’s no easy way to tell you this,’ Russ said, ‘but the situation has escalated. The investigation is now a murder inquiry.’

  The room went blurry as I tried to take in what he was saying. It felt as if someone had punched me hard in the chest. I could feel my heart pounding, could hear my blood rushing, and I felt dizzy and sick. The word murder had caught me completely off guard. I looked at him, dazed, and instinctively I reached out and put my arm around Anjie to comfort her. Neither of us had started to cry yet – the shock was too great. Every breath felt like a tremendous effort.

  ‘We discovered body parts at an address in Barton Hill last night,’ he added. ‘I’m so sorry, Darren.’

  My whole world crumbled around me in that moment.

  ‘How do you know it’s even her?’ I asked slowly. My mind was struggling to understand the full gravity of what he was saying.