Big sis brutally murdered!
Kelly was tragically murdered
Saturday 31st May 2008
The kitchen door flew open and my sister, Kelly, burst in, red with anger.
'Pack your stuff,' she said. 'We're leaving.'
'Oh, OK,' I said, as she thrust a bin bag at me.
It was December 1999, and for the past half-hour, I'd cowered in the kitchen, while Kelly, 18, and her boyfriend, Tim Whitting, then 35, shouted blue murder at each other in the living room.
To be honest, it was something I'd got used to, since moving in with them four months earlier. Up until then, I'd always thought my big sister had everything. Five years older than me, she was slim, with a blonde bob and a beautiful smile. And of course, she had a good-looking boyfriend, Tim, who she shared a two-bedroom house in Plymouth with.
She was a lovely person, too, so kind and thoughtful. Which is why she hadn't thought twice about letting me stay with them, when I'd fallen out with our mum, Marjorie Carder, now 39. But, just days after moving in, I realised Kelly and Tim's relationship was a fiery one. Not a day passed without rows about Tim's drinking. And that wasn't the worst of it. After one fierce argument, Tim slapped Kelly in the face, then held a knife to her throat and threatened to kill her. I was horrified.
'Why don't you leave?' I pleaded, after he'd stormed off to the pub.
'It's not his fault,' Kelly insisted. 'I just wind him up sometimes.'
Not his fault? She was just being a doormat. Until now. After we'd shoved the contents of our wardrobes into bin bags, Tim watched us storm out of the house. As we headed to Kelly's friend Mandy Landricombe's house,
Kelly broke down.
'I want Mum,' she sobbed.
Since Kelly had left home at 14, their relationship had been rocky. Whereas I'd patched things up with Mum, Kelly had dug her heels in.
'Why don't you call her,' I said, handing her my mobile.
Stubborn as ever, Kelly shook her head.
'I just need some space,' she said.
Which is why Kelly got a room in a B&B, while I stayed at Mandy's.
She popped round every day, to make sure I was OK, but it was her who needed looking after, not me. One day, she'd be smiling, the next, crying.
It didn't help that Tim called her constantly, frantic to win her back.
Then, on Saturday, 5 February 2000, I was due to meet Mum for lunch, when Kelly popped round. Dressed in a green jacket, jeans and white shoes, she looked gorgeous.
'I love you,' she smiled, pulling me close for a hug.
'I love you, too,' I grinned, as the familiar smell of her Lou Lou perfume wafted in my face.
She seemed happier than I'd seen her in ages.
A couple of hours later, after meeting Mum at the Snack Box Cafe, in Plymouth, I was on the bus back to Mandy's. As I gazed out of the window,
we drove past the house Kelly had shared with Tim. I could see a crowd outside. What's Tim done now? I thought, rolling my eyes. Intrigued, I got off the bus to have a look, and when I spotted a police officer, I couldn't help but be nosy.
'What's going on?' I asked.
'I can't tell you,' he said.
Fair enough, it wasn't really any of my business. Especially as Kelly didn't even live there any more. As I left, a little girl I recognised from down the street stopped me.
'You're Kelly's sister, aren't you?' she said. 'She's been stabbed and killed.'
'Don't go round saying things like that,' I snapped. 'It's not funny.'
Furious, I stormed to Mandy's.
But as I walked down the front path, the door flew open and there stood Mandy, eyes red and swollen from crying. She didn't need to say anything. I just knew. My legs went weak and I fell into her arms.
'No!' I screamed. 'Not Kelly.'
Tim was arrested on suspicion of murder, and later that night, our friend, John — who'd been at Mandy's house when Kelly left — helped us piece together what happened.
'Kelly was here, when Tim called, saying some post had arrived for her,' he said. 'She went to collect it, and that was the last I saw of her.'
I shook my head in disbelief. I knew Tim could get into a rage, but I never thought he'd kill her. The police explained we'd have to wait until the court case to find out exactly what had happened. In the meantime, John was my rock. Knowing he was the last person to see Kelly made me feel closer to him than anyone. Four months on, in June 2000, we were in Trefusis Park, when he kissed me. From then on, we were inseparable, and two months later, in August 2000, I had the shock of my life when I found out I was pregnant.
The timing wasn't ideal, but John was strong as always.
'We'll get through it,' he said.
My bump was just starting to show when, in September, Mum and I went to Exeter Crown Court for Tim's trial. The court heard how Tim and Kelly had argued outside the bungalow. The prosecution claimed Tim had gone inside, picked up a knife in the kitchen, then stabbed Kelly in the back and heart.
He'd called an ambulance, saying: 'I think I've killed my girlfriend.'
I raced out and threw up in the toilets. My poor, poor sis. Later, Mum and I held hands as the jury came back with the verdict. Guilty. Three months on, Tim was ordered to serve a minimum of 12 years in jail. Nothing could bring Kelly back but, in June 2001, I cried tears of happiness as I gave birth to Rosemary at Derriford Hospital. As I held her in my arms, I knew Kelly was looking down on us.
Since then, we've had two boys, Alexander, now 4, and Don, 2. Sadly, because of everything I've been through, the kids aren't living with me at the moment, but John and I are still together. As for Kelly, she was stubborn and strong-willed. But she was my sister, and I loved her. I'm determined she'll never be forgotten.