It was time for Anjie to meet Danny, who was four, and Becky, who was not quite two. This was a different kettle of fish as both my kids loved her the second they set eyes on her. Danny immediately sat next to her and listened, all ears, as she read him a story, while Becky just gazed at her in awe. Anjie was a natural mother, through and through.
When Nathan first met Danny, he shyly invited him up to his room to play computer games. Danny was thrilled – he didn’t have anything like that at home. Suddenly, a boy eight years older than him was inviting him to play on the PlayStation with him. That was awesome! They remained locked up in that room for hours, and we barely heard a peep out of them. I think Danny had always wanted an older brother, and Nathan provided someone for him to look up to. From then on, Danny adjusted to life as the ‘middle child’ in our family, which suited him just fine.
Becky was too young to play with Danny and Nathan, so she mainly spent her time with Anjie and me. She was quite a demanding child, who would scream at the top of her lungs for hours on end for no reason that we could ever work out. I’d had her checked out with a doctor and there was nothing physically wrong. It seemed as though she was just staking her claim for attention in the household. When we started feeding her solids instead of milk, she would scream in between spoonfuls of baby food because we weren’t giving it to her fast enough. She was like a little monster sometimes – but I was still a doting dad and nothing was too much trouble.
At first, I would often take my kids out for one day every weekend to give Nathan time alone with his mum, because he seemed a little jealous when she was affectionate towards my two, particularly Becky. But Anjie was adamant that she wanted us to be a family and that we should do things together. When she said that, I gave her a huge hug. I would have done anything for my kids and I think they knew that. I wanted to give them a proper family life – the life I’d never really had – even if I could only do it at the weekends. Anjie wanted to give them a great home too, so that’s what we set about doing. For the next fifteen years, all of our energy was put into making sure the three kids had a stable upbringing with plenty of love. And there was so much love in our house it was unreal.
Eventually, the kids and I were seeing so much of Anjie and Nathan that it made sense for me to move in to Anjie’s house in Hillfields, which was just a few miles from where I had been living in Barton Hill. We then moved together to a new house in the St George’s area. In both houses, Nathan had a room of his own, while Danny and Becky shared a room. During the week, the house was quiet as it was just Anjie and me, but at weekends it was like living in a madhouse with three kids running around, winding each other up and playing games. But we didn’t want it any other way.
I still hadn’t bothered to get a DNA test because I knew in my heart of hearts that Becky was my daughter. Tanya hadn’t named me on the birth certificate, though, and I wanted things to be clear, so when Becky was two years old I decided to go ahead with the test. When the results eventually came back they proved that she was definitely my daughter. By then, I loved her so much I don’t think it changed anything, but it did feel good knowing for sure that she was mine. I knew then that I would never, ever be forced to let her go.
Chapter 2
SATURDAY, 28 FEBRUARY 2015
Scores join search for missing Becky: Police have ramped up the hunt for Bristol teenager Becky Watts after she mysteriously vanished a week ago. A forensics team has combed her home for possible clues, the police helicopter has twice scoured the surrounding area – including Troopers Hill Nature Reserve, which lies two miles away – and police divers have been carrying out specialist open-water searches at the pond in nearby St George’s Park. Neighbouring forces from South Wales, Wiltshire, Devon and Cornwall, and Gloucestershire have now joined the operation, and police said yesterday that Detective Superintendent Liz Tunks, head of the major crime investigation unit, had taken over as senior investigating officer. Thousands of posters and leaflets have been distributed across the city, and there have been several public appeals for help by Becky’s family, but so far to no avail. In a tremendous show of support and solidarity, scores of volunteers have this week joined family, friends and neighbours to sweep the city for any sign of the missing schoolgirl. As time passes, hopes of finding her alive are fading. Pleading desperately for the return of his daughter on radio station Jack FM, Becky’s father, Darren Galsworthy, said: ‘It’s been absolute hell on earth. Someone out there knows something. I just want my girl back.’
After a gruelling week at work, I always looked forward to spending the weekends with my family. The sixteen-hour days I was doing as a sheet metal engineer would leave me completely knackered by Friday evening, but there was nothing more satisfying than picking up my kids for the weekend – Nathan from his nan’s and Danny and Becky from Tanya’s house in Cadbury Heath. It was easily my favourite part of the week. I immediately felt that little bit lighter the moment I clapped eyes on them.
Anjie and I would plan all sorts of activities for the kids: bowling and Laser Quest (a kind of hi-tech hide and seek) for the boys, or just simple trips to the park or beach. I was happiest when we were all together; it didn’t really matter what we were doing.
Around the age of two, Becky became a proper toddler, prone to having loud tantrums. She’d never lost that powerful set of lungs she’d displayed in hospital, and she demonstrated them publicly on many occasions. When we went to a birds of prey show, she screamed so loudly she upset all the birds.
‘Will the family with the very loud toddler please leave, as you are interrupting the show?’ said an angry female voice over the tannoy.
Anjie and I were mortified, and I tried to hide my embarrassment. I picked Becky up and stomped out of the building then plonked her down on the pavement outside, where she continued to scream and screech at me. To Anjie’s horror, I sat myself down a few metres away and started making the same noises back to Becky. People didn’t know what to think as they watched us screeching away. It certainly shut her up! I can laugh about it now, but it was a waste of the ticket price – a whole £18 I was never going to see again.
When Becky was three, we took the kids on holiday to Exmouth. Danny, Nathan and I armed ourselves with little fishing nets and went searching for crabs and limpets when, all of a sudden, Becky decided it was time for a tantrum. She stood on the sand a few metres away from us and screamed her head off. No amount of coaxing from Anjie or me could make her calm down, so in the end I picked her up, put her on her lilo and paddled her into the sea.
‘If you don’t start behaving, I’m going to let go and you’ll end up over in France,’ I warned, pointing to show her the direction.
She looked at my face, trying to work out if I was serious, and when I stayed deadpan she decided to calm down.
Maybe some of Becky’s tantrums were about testing her own power, the way all toddlers do, but they were also a way of getting our attention because she was still not talking by then. She had been slow to walk and crawl, not finding her feet till well after her second birthday, and at two years old she wasn’t talking yet – she didn’t use recognisable words until she was well past her third birthday. I wasn’t unduly worried at first because I know all kids pick up these skills at their own pace, but the tantrums meant she could be a handful at times.
She might have been demanding, but she was also an extremely affectionate child. All she had to do was look up at me and smile and she would have me wrapped completely around her little finger. She was always reaching up for a cuddle. Her favourite place to be was cuddled up with Anjie or me, or hanging with her arms around Anjie’s neck. She was my princess and I adored her.
It always melted my heart when I spotted Danny and Becky peeping through the curtains at their mother’s house, waiting for my car to pull up outside on a Friday evening. The minute they saw us turning onto their street, Danny would fling open the front door, and, as soon