The Evil Within: Murdered by her stepbrother – the crime that shocked a nation. The heartbreaking story of Becky Watts by her father. Darren Galsworthy

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      ‘Well, that’s it now, love,’ I said. ‘It’s the five of us together from now on. Lots more memories to make.’

      As she reached across and squeezed my hand, I couldn’t remember ever feeling happier.

      There were always going to be some teething troubles, bringing together three kids with such a big age gap between them, but on the whole it wasn’t too bad. Danny and Nathan got on fine from the start, but Becky continued to get on Nathan’s nerves sometimes. One of his hobbies was painting Warhammer fantasy models. He used to sit at the coffee table in the living room for hours on end, carefully painting these miniature fighters from make-believe worlds with paintbrushes that were so well-used they only had two or three bristles left. He was brilliant at it, and I was always impressed by his patience – much more than I’ve ever had! Sometimes he would try to get us all involved, and Anjie, Danny and I would do our best, squinting down at the little figurines and trying to keep a steady hand. However, little four-year-old Becky wasn’t so careful. Once, she toddled over to see what we were doing, grabbed a model, dunked it in a pot of paint and held it out to Nathan, smiling proudly. Of course, she had ruined the model completely and Nathan was furious, but her eagerness to please him from an early age was there. Becky clearly adored him.

      As time went on, Becky grew more and more attached to Anjie, and one day, when she was five, we realised she didn’t entirely understand the relationships in our ‘blended family’. I’d been on the phone to Tanya and I’m afraid the conversation had got a bit heated. After I hung up, Danny looked across at me from where he was sitting on the sofa.

      ‘Who was that?’ he asked.

      ‘Oh, just your mother,’ I answered.

      ‘Do you have to speak to her like that?’ he asked. Danny always protected his mother. I think he just wished we would all get on with each other, which is only natural.

      ‘She’s playing silly buggers yet again,’ I said. ‘You should have heard the way she spoke to me.’

      Becky – who was lying across Anjie’s lap – grinned at Danny. ‘My mum’s better than your mum! My mum’s better than your mum!’ she sang, trying to tease him.

      Danny looked at her, incredulous. ‘My mum is your mum!’ he shouted. ‘Oh Becky, you are stupid. She’s your mum too, you idiot.’

      Poor Becky looked crestfallen. She looked at me first, uncertainty in her eyes, and then up at Anjie. ‘He’s lying, isn’t he?’ she asked.

      Anjie glanced at me, a worried look on her face. We’d always known the moment would come, but we’d never really sat down and talked about how we were going to handle it.

      ‘You’re my mum, aren’t you?’ Becky continued to Anjie, desperate for it to be true. ‘Did it really hurt when I came out of your tummy?’

      I knew we had to tell her the truth, so I decided to grab the bull by the horns. I crouched down next to Becky while Anjie wrapped her arms around her. Becky sat, listening silently as I explained that Tanya was her mum, not Anjie.

      ‘You never actually came out of Anjie’s tummy, darling,’ I said soothingly. ‘Danny’s right, you’ve both got the same mum.’

      Suddenly, Becky let out an ear-piercing scream. She burst into tears, looking utterly devastated. Anjie tried to console her, but she squirmed away and bolted up the stairs to her bedroom.

      As soon as the door slammed behind her, Anjie burst into tears too. ‘I wish she was mine,’ she sobbed. ‘She feels like she’s mine.’

      ‘I know, love,’ I said, giving her a hug. ‘She’ll be OK, I promise.’ I hated seeing Anjie upset almost as much as I hated seeing any of my kids upset.

      But Anjie knew how to handle it. She went upstairs and gently knocked on Becky’s door. I heard Becky let her in – and that’s where they stayed for the rest of the day. They cuddled up together, talking, reading and watching television. I brought them their dinner on a tray that evening, and then at night Anjie slept in Becky’s bed with her. That seemed to do the trick because the next morning she was right as rain.

      She came bouncing down the stairs and beamed up at me the way she always had. ‘I’ve got both a mum and an Anjie,’ she chirped. ‘And I love my Anjie.’

      Sometimes, she’d come out with stuff like that – things that completely melted my heart. From then on, she drew pictures of the whole family together, and when she was finished she held them up proudly to show Anjie and me.

      ‘Look, Daddy,’ she said. ‘I’ve got two mums, two brothers and a dad.’

      ‘Yes, you have,’ I said, ruffling her hair. ‘Aren’t you the luckiest girl around?’

      Her relationship with Anjie went from strength to strength after that. They spent a lot of time together, baking, shopping, and sewing – all the things that mothers and daughters normally do. Anjie had always wanted a daughter, and now it seemed that at last she had one.

      In 2003, Becky started at Summerhill Primary School, where Danny was already a pupil. It was just a few streets away from where we lived, and we hoped that she would settle in quickly and enjoy her time there. Instead, she screamed her head off when Anjie tried to leave her there, with the upshot that she had to hang around and help the teachers, just to make Becky stay. At home she had always been fearless, but at school we were surprised to find that she seemed to struggle to bond with most other kids. She had one close friend, called Hope, and she also became close to her cousin, Brooke, Anjie’s sister’s daughter, who was three years older than her. She might only have had two friends, but Becky was fiercely loyal to them from the start, something she shared with her old man.

      When the summer holidays arrived it was always the start of a chaotic but fun-filled time in our house. We didn’t have a lot of money, so we never went abroad, but we always went off in the caravan for a week or two. We’d start by picking Nathan up, complete with his massive rucksack, then get on the motorway to our destination of choice, usually Brean Sands, Weymouth or Minehead.

      As soon as we got there, Danny and Nathan would be off, getting up to mischief as all boys do, and Becky would beg to go to the swimming pool. She was a proper water baby. She adored swimming, and by the time she was five she was incredibly confident in the water. She could happily spend all day in the pool at our campsite, and it was always a nightmare getting her out again. She loved it so much I built a 25-foot-long and 12-foot-wide pool in our back garden for her to splash about in. Her feet couldn’t touch the bottom but she was absolutely thrilled, and every day when it was warm enough she’d strip off straight after school, tug on her swimming costume and jump in.

      Becky’s favourite place to go on holiday was definitely Butlin’s. She loved it there, because there were so many things for kids to do that they never got bored. It was great for Anjie and me too, as the kids could entertain themselves, leaving us with some valuable adult time.

      By the time Becky was five, Nathan was sixteen and old enough to babysit her and Danny while we went for a drink. He liked to earn some pocket money and show us how grown up he was. I was proud of the effort he made with his siblings on these occasions. He even volunteered to take Becky into the ball pit a few times to thrash around in the colourful plastic balls, and he often took Danny on the water slides. I remember one occasion in particular that always makes me chuckle. Anjie and I were in the pool with Becky, waiting for the boys to come down the slide, and we noticed that they were taking an СКАЧАТЬ