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

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 awfully long time.

‘What on earth is the hold-up?’ I muttered to Anjie. Then I noticed that Nathan was laughing – holding onto his sides with laughter, in fact – while six-year-old Danny had a face like thunder. After a while, they came back down the steps, with Danny looking like he might burst into tears.

‘What’s the matter, boy?’ I asked, thinking some kid had picked on him. ‘Why didn’t you come down the slide?’

‘Some fat woman got stuck.’ Nathan howled with laughter. ‘They sent everyone back down the steps. They’ve had to call for help to get her down.’

We all watched with amusement as they tried to drag this poor woman down the slide by her feet. Danny was upset to miss his turn on the slide, but he saw the funny side in the end and he had another go later. I know it sounds odd, but that is one of my favourite memories of us on holiday as a family: all five of us standing there, laughing at something silly.

One of the best things about Bristol is that there are loads of family friendly events held all year round. One of our favourites was the Bristol Balloon Fiesta. Becky loved watching the hot-air balloons take off and fill the sky, and all three kids adored the fairground. Nathan always took Becky and Danny on the rides for me because I was far too petrified to get on them myself. As an engineer, I could see everything that could possibly go wrong with the mechanics of a ride. It would make me feel sick just watching, but I couldn’t bear to spoil their fun by banning them from going on.

‘I’ll just wait here, Bex. Nath will take you,’ I’d call, waving them off. I usually stood, rigid with fear, for the whole three minutes while they whizzed around, screaming their heads off with delight.

Of course, life with children isn’t always about treating them – I had to do a great deal of teaching and coaching too. When Becky was six years old I taught her to ride a bike by slyly removing her stabiliser wheels before she climbed on. I gave her a shove and was thrilled when she sailed off down the path without them. Of course, as soon as she realised they were missing she fell over with a look of surprise and confusion on her face.

‘My wheels have fallen off, Daddy!’ she shouted, but she soon got up and tried again. She was always a very determined character.