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Crying out for Mummy

All she wanted was a little love


Published by: Amy Thompson & Sharon Ward
Published on: 20th September 2010

Everyone slots into a certain role in their family. Some of us are the warm, loving types. Others are the jokers of the family who know just how to lighten the mood. Then there are the ones who quietly take in everything around them, just waiting for the moment when they’re most needed.
My daughter, Laura, 21, was the protector in our family.
Unlike her sisters, Valerie, 30, and Kirsten, 20, she’d always been a bit of a tomboy. She was the odd one out with her dark eyes and long curls. Instead of playing with Barbie dolls and dressing up, she had a bigger toy car collection than any lad on our street by the time she was five.
And, boy, was she passionate? I lost count of the times I was called  to the school because Laura had been in a fight!
‘He was calling a girl names because she’s in a wheelchair,’ she huffed one day when I found her sitting outside the headmaster’s office. ‘So I told him to pick on someone his own size, and shoved him.’
Even her teachers quietly told me the boy had had it coming. But, of course, none of us condoned violence.
‘It’s great that you want to stick up for people, honey,’ I told her on the way home. ‘Maybe you should try using words, rather than your fists, though.’
She nodded thoughtfully.
For Laura, not much changed over the years. If there was someone in need, she’d be there, stepping in to defend them.
So, when she fell pregnant at 19 with her son, Lamar, and got a job working on a construction site, I didn’t have any worries about how she’d handle being a mum. That protective instinct had shone through her from the word go – she was a natural.
The only problem was Lamar’s dad Samuel. He got into trouble with drugs, and left Laura to bring up their son alone.
It was tough at first but, as always, my girl battled through. There wasn’t anything she wouldn’t do to protect her son.
Then, when Lamar was five months old, she brought round a new friend to introduce to me…
‘This is John, my boyfriend,’ she grinned as a tall, dark, handsome guy walked through my front door. ‘We met through friends at work.’
‘Nice to meet you,’ he smiled politely at me.
Nice to meet you, too!
I invited them to stay for dinner so I could get to know my daughter’s new fella.
Watching John pop Lamar into his high chair and pull funny faces at him, I smiled.
‘Lovely, isn’t he?’ Laura whispered to me in the kitchen. ‘I really like him, Mum.’
‘That’s great, love,’ I smiled. ‘Just be careful, though, won’t you? I don’t want to see you and Lamar get hurt.’
She might’ve been the protective type, but I was a mum, too. I’d fight tooth and nail to make sure no harm came to my babies.
‘He’s nothing like Sam,’ Laura reassured me.
Well, that seemed true enough. He was great with Lamar and I’d never seen Laura laugh so much. It was great to see her happy.
Finally, our little protector had someone to watch out for her.
Over the following months, they became a proper family. When Laura called round with some exciting news, though, I couldn’t help being shocked.
‘Pregnant?’ I gasped. ‘But… you’ve only been dating for seven months. Isn’t it a bit soon…?’
‘This is what I want,’ she reassured me. ‘Me and John are really excited.’
Who was I to ruin the moment?
‘In that case, I’m happy for you,’ I smiled, hugging her.
Laura and John started living together at her neighbour’s house. Elijah, 72, was blind and needed someone to help him out, so he’d asked them to move in.
‘He doesn’t want us to pay rent, either, in return for me helping him,’ Laura told me. ‘So we can save for when the baby comes.’
Perfect! Everything was going smoothly. I even started buying baby bits to surprise the happy couple with – a new car seat, a baby bath, clothes…
But just three months into her pregnancy, Laura made a decision – she asked John to leave.
‘We just kept arguing,’ she said. ‘It wasn’t working out.’
I narrowed my eyes, with suspicion. I could always tell when my kids were lying. Valerie’s and Kirsten’s blue eyes turned green and Laura twisted her hair between her fingers. She was doing it now.
‘Tell me the truth,’ I said, calmly.
She slumped, miserable.
‘Well, it’s true we weren’t getting along,’ she explained. ‘A couple of our friends told me they’d seen John hanging around with lads known for drug dealing. I didn’t want to believe it at first, Mum…’
She sighed, fighting back tears. ‘But when I confronted him, he told me he had an addiction to crack cocaine… So I told him to go.’
I reached across the table, gripping her hand.
‘Oh, love, I’m so sorry,’ I frowned. ‘You’ve done the right thing. I’ll always be here for you.’
‘Thanks, Mum,’ she smiled.
Next time I saw her, though, I couldn’t help worrying.
‘What happened there?’ I asked, pointing to a deep purple swelling near her shoulder.
‘I knocked it at work,’ she shrugged. ‘It looks worse than it is. Don’t worry.’
‘Pregnant women shouldn’t be working on construction sites in my opinion,’ I muttered. 
‘Mum, it’s nothing, honestly,’ she sighed. ‘Stop fretting.’
I was getting more worried about her by the day, though. She should have been resting with her feet up, not working on a building site and running around after Lamar. She needed John looking after her and his baby.
So, when she was due to go for her 20-week scan, I suggested she invite him along.
‘Maybe seeing his baby will give him the incentive to turn his life around,’ I told her.
‘Worth a shot,’ she agreed.
It paid off. Sitting with them in the hospital while the nurse pointed out their baby on the screen, I smiled at John’s reaction.
‘I’m gonna be a dad,’ he gasped as if it’d just dawned on him for the first time. Maybe it had.
Turning to face Laura, his eyes welled up. ‘I’m so sorry,’ he whispered. ‘I won’t let you down again. Promise.’
‘The baby has its legs closed,’ the nurse interrupted. ‘You’ll have to come back for another scan next week if you want to know if it’s a boy or girl.’
Laura was desperate to find out the answer, so she made the appointment right there.
Meanwhile, I pulled John aside.
‘You’ve got a family to think of now,’ I told him. ‘Get off the drugs and be there to support them.’
‘I will,’ he promised.
Leaving the hospital, I felt a shred of hope for the first time in weeks. Maybe this time around, things would be different. Maybe John wouldn’t leave my daughter to raise his baby alone.
A week later, I was running errands in town, waiting for Laura to call me with the results.
‘Bet it’s another boy,’ I thought happily, dropping off some papers at a charity I worked for.
As I turned around to leave, though, a familiar face caught my eye. Laura’s friend, David, had just stumbled inside.
‘Donna,’ he wheezed, breathless from running. ‘I saw your truck outside… you gotta come quickly… it’s Laura…’
I stared at him confused… Oh God, had something happened to the baby?
Without asking questions, we raced out to his car together.
But David didn’t drive me to the hospital. Instead, he was speeding towards Elijah’s house.
‘What the…?’ I breathed, seeing a crowd of police officers standing outside, crime scene tape fluttering in the breeze.
My mind raced as I leaped out of the car and ran to the front door.
‘Sorry, you can’t go in,’ an officer held me back.
‘I need to see my daughter,’ I begged him.
He wouldn’t let me past.
Helpless, I stood on the driveway for what felt like forever, waiting for answers.
Finally, I got them…
‘I’m sorry, Mrs Davis,’ a policeman told me. ‘Your daughter’s dead.’
The words tumbled through my head, refusing to make any sense.
‘H-how…?’ I asked.
Had she suffered a miscarriage and haemorrhaged? No. That couldn’t be it. Why would the police be here? Why would it be a crime scene…?
Even as I thought that, the truth was already crashing down on me…
‘She was murdered,’ he explained quietly. ’Her ex-boyfriend, John Moore, has confessed to killing her.’
Agonising pain tore through my chest, crushing my lungs. I couldn’t breathe as my sobbing choked me…
When they managed to calm me down, I was taken to the police station where Lamar was being looked after. As he reached out chubby arms towards me, his brown eyes, so like Laura’s, were wide and frightened.
He was only 15 months old, but his mummy and little brother or sister had been brutally snatched from him forever.
My heart broke as I held him, thinking of all the things my daughter would miss. She’d never see him go to school, never tuck him in or run around with him in the park…
Why?
At John’s trial, the grim details of what happened unfolded.
He’d been high on cocaine when he’d broken into Elijah’s house and sneaked into Laura’s room in the early hours.
He claimed the drugs had taken control and he’d been so desperate for his next fix, he’d beaten my daughter, leaving her body covered in more than 100 bruises – all so he could steal her jewellery to buy some cocaine.
To feed his addiction, he’d killed not just my daughter, but his unborn child.
He smacked Laura’s face so hard against the wall, pieces of skin from her forehead were embedded in it. Then, he’d torn her earrings from her ears, yanked off her rings so hard, he’d broken her fingers.
Leaving her for dead, he’d gone downstairs to Elijah’s room and knocked 22 teeth out of the blind pensioner before slitting his throat. Amazingly, Elijah had survived.
When John had handed himself into the police, he’d told them he hadn’t been able to stop – not even when Laura had cried out.
‘You’re hurting me and the baby,’ she’d said desperately. Her last words will haunt me forever: ‘Mummy, help me…’
My brave girl, the one who’d gone out of her way to protect those who couldn’t defend themselves, had been murdered by the one person who should have been protecting her.
A post mortem revealed that her baby, a little boy, had taken at least 10 minutes to die inside her after she passed away. Hospital records showed she’d also been treated for bruising when John had hit her on numerous occasions before.
Was that where the marks I’d seen on her arm had come from?
The thought of the pain my daughter and unborn grandson had suffered was unbearable.
John pleaded guilty to second-degree murder and was sentenced to 40 years in prison.
But that’s nothing compared to what we’ve been sentenced to. Lamar will spend a lifetime without his mum.
Before she was buried with her baby placed in her arms, I told Lamar how she had to go to heaven to be an angel.
He’s five now and we visit her grave every other day. He talks to her, updating her on his life. But when we leave, he always says the same four words. ‘I love you, Mummy.’
It pains me that my Laura will never get to hear them.
I wish she’d told me about the violence before it was too late. But that was the thing about Laura, she was so busy protecting everyone else, she never stopped to consider herself.
Now, we’re still trying to cope without her. There’s a huge hole in our family, one that only Laura could ever fill.

Donna Davis, 51, Titusville, Florida, USA