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

When she started learning her times tables at school, I would test her while she was on her trampoline in the back garden. She would bounce up and down while I sat on the step and shouted out: ‘Five times three? Six times four?’ That was our unique way of doing homework!

Becky was never happier than when she was outside, and she and I loved going for long country walks. Although Bristol is a busy city, it is blessed with lots of countryside around about and some fantastic public parks. One of our favourite places for a stroll was St George’s Park, which wasn’t far from our house. Becky would pull on her wellies and trot along by my side, her little hand in mine, but she did insist on stopping every five minutes to examine any flowers or bugs she could find. She loved climbing trees or fishing for tadpoles in the pond with her fishing net. We would collect them in jam jars and watch as they turned into frogs – something my father used to do with me.

Becky wasn’t the type of girl who was afraid of insects. When she caught head lice at school – an ongoing battle for Anjie and me, as she was always coming home with a new crop of them – she’d ask me to show her the little critters I combed out of her hair. She was fascinated by them, examining them under her microscope and even labelling them as ‘my little friends’. It made me shudder with disgust, I have to say.

As she got older, her personality just got stronger – complete with an attitude on occasion! Once, when she was six years old, she finished her dinner and waited expectantly at the table for dessert. I realised that I didn’t have anything else to give her, as I hadn’t done the food shopping yet. I was hoping that she would get bored and play with her toys, as Nathan and Danny had done, but she stayed at the table, staring at me.

‘Daddy, where’s my pudding?’ she asked sweetly.

‘Sorry, Bex, no pudding tonight,’ I said. ‘Daddy hasn’t been to the supermarket yet.’

The dismay on her face was almost comical. ‘No pudding?’ she exclaimed. ‘But I ate all my dinner!’

‘You can have extra pudding tomorrow for being a good girl,’ I said, chuckling.

I didn’t expect her to react so violently, but she threw herself dramatically from her seat and ran out of the room, returning a few seconds later with the phone.

‘This is child abuse,’ she announced. ‘I’m phoning Childline.’

I couldn’t help bursting out laughing, which only infuriated Becky more.

‘I’ll do it, Daddy!’ she shouted, waving the phone in the air. ‘I’ll call them and tell them you wouldn’t give me any pudding.’

That just set me off even more, of course.

Becky couldn’t stop herself cracking a smile, and soon she was in stitches too – that’s just how it was with us. Even when one of us started out genuinely annoyed about something, in the end we’d both be falling about in hysterics.

Becky enjoyed trying to push me to the limit, as all kids do. In particular, she liked to set me ‘challenges’, something she started when she was as young as four. We were both very stubborn, and the father–daughter rivalry between us was hilarious to witness. Becky would set me at least one ‘challenge’ a week and, not wanting to be beaten, I would try my best to complete her mission before setting her a challenge too. Anjie would just roll her eyes and leave us to it.

Becky’s challenges included making me do cartwheels, backflips and handstands. Now, I was 14 stone at the time and had quite a large belly, so the sight of me trying to spin myself around and land on my feet again was not pretty. Becky would howl with laughter at my failures then gracefully demonstrate the move herself.

Much later, my challenges to her included eating an entire blazing hot curry without pausing for breath (she was in her teens by this time, I hasten to add!). I labelled this the ‘Atomic Curry Challenge’, and Becky was so keen to win she even ate a whole red chilli to top it off. Afterwards, she had to drink about a gallon of milk to cool her mouth. I recorded that particular challenge on my phone while shaking with laughter, and that video has come to mean so much to me.

Becky absolutely loved animals, and we spent many family days out at Bristol Zoo and various wildlife parks. No matter what animal it was, she adored them all. By the time she was thirteen she had so many little animals living in her room it was like something from a Disney film. She had a terrapin, a rabbit called Buster, two white rats, two Siberian dwarf hamsters and three regular hamsters.

Becky designed a three-storey mansion for Buster to live in, which took me a week to build. It had a room for his food, a sitting area, a bedroom and another level on top with a glass window. It also had stairs to the ground floor so he could run around outside in his very own little garden. Never did any rabbit live in such luxury! Despite this, Becky then decided that Buster should come inside to stay with her and the other animals in her bedroom. It was ridiculous in the end – the smell from the cages became overpowering and we had to shout at her to move Buster outside again. Of course, she had promised at the outset that she would look after the animals and clean out the cages, but guess who ended up doing it? That’s right, Anjie and me.

Eventually, Becky asked us for what she called a ‘real’ pet, and we took her to Bristol dogs’ home. Surprisingly, there was a litter of kittens there and she ended up staring at one kitten for so long that we let her have him. He was jet black except for four white paws and a white chin, and she called him Marley.

In the dogs’ home, Marley appeared sweet and innocent-looking, but as soon as he came in the front door of our house he started causing absolute mayhem. We soon realised he was a complete psycho cat. He would climb the walls and curtains and claw his way around the furniture. Of course, Becky thought this was hilarious. One of his favourite games was to hide until I walked past, then he would jump out and land on my back, his sharp claws digging into my flesh. He would hang on for dear life while I ran around trying to shake him off. It was almost as if Becky had trained him to do this, because she would roll about in fits of laughter while I grappled with him.

Marley was very much Becky’s cat. He never showed the rest of us any affection whatsoever, but he would purr and gaze up at Becky lovingly. He liked his freedom during the day but would always go into Becky’s room for a cuddle in the evenings, probably terrorising the hamsters who were huddled behind the bars of their cages.

During my childhood, Christmas was always a disappointment, so I made a huge effort for my own children. Anjie and I would pull out all the stops to decorate the house and make it as festive as possible. She would bake lots of treats and, every Christmas Eve, I would dress up as Santa. I’d put on a padded red-and-white costume, complete with little spectacles and a big white beard, making Anjie and Nathan giggle. I would wait until Danny and Becky were drifting off to sleep before sneaking into their rooms with their stockings, which were bursting with treats. If they were already asleep, I’d quietly sing Christmas songs and jiggle about in order to get them to stir. I’d watch them breathing fast in their excitement and trying to stay as still as possible when they realised ‘Santa’ was there.

After the presents were opened on Christmas morning, we’d visit my nan, May, who had more treats for everyone, then return home so I could cook our Christmas dinner. The children would spend the afternoon playing with their new toys, and Anjie and I would have a drink and toast another good year.

We discussed having children of our own many times, but Anjie had previously suffered an ectopic pregnancy, which left her with only one fallopian tube, and it just didn’t happen. We paid for fertility tests and considered having IVF, but the cost was so high that we eventually decided against it. That’s why it was so lovely that Becky became like the daughter Anjie never had. It was a huge part of why they were so close. The way we saw it, we had three healthy children between us, so we just counted our blessings. We were happy and that was the main thing. I felt like the richest man in the world.