Claire Reynolds, 37, will never forgive the man who stole her little girl
WORDS: ASHLEIGH PAGE, SARAH YATES. PHOTOS: STOKE SENTINEL/BPM MEDIA, CLAIRE REYNOLDS/BPM MEDIA
Settling on the sofa, I watched my daughter, Sharlotte, six, prancing, jumping, kicking and generally showing off. ‘Look Mummy,’ she said, attempting a roly-poly.
‘Amazing!’ I cheered. There was no doubt our Sharlotte loved an audience, and she always had one, whether it was me, her dad Kris, then 32, or her big brother and sister, Paul, 13, and Eva, 10.
She was so funny and cheeky, she suited her nickname, ‘Monkey’. Sharlotte loved to play dress up and was always sneaking into my make-up bag for my lipstick to smear on or begging to have her nails painted.
Now, in June 2021, her new favourite thing was gymnastics. ‘Can I have a proper leotard please, Mummy?’ Sharlotte grinned, looking at me with flushed cheeks.
‘When you’ve been going for two months,’ I promised. I wanted to make sure she could stick to the classes before splashing out on the gear.
Nodding, she went back to practising her forward rolls. Fearless, she was never afraid of anything and gave her all to whatever she tried.
Earlier in the week, she’d been to hospital to get some teeth removed and handled it like a trouper. I decided she needed a treat, so with the older two spending the weekend with their dad, my ex-partner, I had a friend staying over that night, and I planned a girly night in with Sharlotte – face masks, nail painting, movies and treats – all things she loved.
‘I’m going to head to the shop. Do you want anything?’ Kris asked, so I gave him a list of things to pick up for the girly night. ‘I want to come,’ Sharlotte said, desperate to pick out her own sweets. She slipped on her sandals and they headed off together just after 6.30pm. Enjoying a bit of peace and quiet, I sat in the garden chatting with my friend. Then, 45 minutes later, we heard a huge crash.
SHOCKING NOISE
‘What on earth was that?’ I said to my friend. Next thing, my phone started ringing, and Kris’ name was on the screen.
An awful thought ran through my mind and I answered the call, my heart thumping in my chest.
‘She’s dead!’ Kris cried, choking on sobs. Before I could take it in, my legs were carrying me out the front door. Just a minute from our house I stopped, my eyes barely understanding the scene in front of me. A wrecked car lay still in the road, a nearby wall demolished. A man lay on the ground a few metres away, blood on his head. And there was my little girl.
My sweet, funny, lively l
