Stabbed 82 times… ‘He’ll kill me!’
My sister knew her terrible fate – why could no-one save her?
Pulling the blanket over our knees, our eyes shone as Mum walked into the lounge with two paper bags. It was 1992, a typical Saturday night for me, then 5, and my big sister Katie, 8.
A 10p bag of pick-n-mix, Mum cooking potato hash, and then...
‘Gladiators time!’ Katie beamed, tapping the remote.
I’d follow Katie around like a shadow. But by my 10th birthday, I was the one taking care of her.
You see,
Katie was a troubled teen. She struggled to make friends, was bullied. An argumentative but sensitive soul. Then in 2000, at 16, she fell out with Mum and left home, sofa-surfing between mates’ houses.
A few weeks later, I met her in town and begged her to move back. ‘Please,’ I said as we got the bus together.
‘No,’ she snapped.
As we jumped off at our stop, a man called out to us. ‘You’re beautiful,’ he said, staring at Katie. ‘Come on, sis,’ I said, grabbing her arm.
But Katie was spellbound by the compliments and, after a few corny chat-up lines, gave the man, who told us his name was Brian Taylor, my number – she didn’t have a phone herself at the time. Within weeks, she’d moved in with him, and while he was older, at 21, he seemed to treat her well. ‘Brian will do anything for me,’ she bragged over coffee when we met up. I talked about life at home, and school, and told her I missed her.
In no time at all, Brian and Katie started a family.
Yet, assuming she was happy, I didn’t worry.
But in November 2001, she rang in tears, voice trembling.
‘What’s wrong?’ I asked, in protective-sister mode.
‘Brian attacked me,’ she cried.
Through heaving sobs, she explained he’d locked her in the flat. She’d screamed for help out the window until a stranger came to her aid. Brian had been arrested. All this time, he’d been physically and emotionally abusing my sister.
Yet Katie hadn’t told a soul – until now.
‘Come home,’ I begged her again.
But, within days, she’d dropped the charges and was back under Brian’s spell, and his roof.
To me, she seemed trapped – for her, she was in love. But this chaotic sequence played out time and again.
Being young myself, I didn’t know how to help her.
In 2005, Brian moved to Preston, taking Katie with him – away from her friends and family.
‘He’s spending all my money,’ she said on the phone.
Swiping Katie’s benefits and splashing it on drink and drugs, he fed his habits before his family.
He carried a knife up his sleeve to scare her and controlled every aspect of her life.
Katie was miserable and, whenever we spoke, I’d plead with her to come home.
Finally, in October 2007, she found the courage to move back to Bolton and got a council house around the corner.
A fresh start.
By then, I was in a relationship and we had a
young son. Watching a carefree Katie jumping on the trampoline with her own kids and nephew, I was so happy for her.
Her face no longer bruised, but lit up with a smile, I imagined her future away from that monster.
Only, it turned out Brian was watching her, making threats, at times even creeping into her house.
Several times I called the police, who’d speak to Brian.
But in October
2008, he stormed round after hearing Katie, 24, had been out with friends. Accused her of meeting men.
She hadn’t, and even if she had, it wasn’t his business – she was single.
After a row, Brian left, but that week, Katie’s keys and phone vanished from her home. Frantically calling the police again, I told them – and Brian was arrested.
‘He’ll kill me for this!’ Katie wept.
‘Don’t be silly,’ I reassured her, but the hairs on my neck prickled.
Is he capable of that?
Two days later, we chatted on the phone in the morning. Katie was excited about Christmas.
‘Our first together in years,’ she said.
Two hours later, I was in the GP’s waiting room when Katie’s neighbour called me, ‘You need to come!’ she said.
I held my breath, heart hammering in my chest.
‘Katie’s been stabbed,’ she managed to stammer to me. ‘Brian attacked her!’
I ran to Katie’s, where I found emergency vehicles lining the street.
Panic fired through me as I screamed Katie was my sister. An officer coaxed me into a police car to sit down.
‘I’m so sorry,’ she said. ‘She’s gone.’
‘What?’ I gasped, the news so harrowing I went numb.
Over the next few hours, I lurched from one moment to the next, slowly piecing the whole horror story together.
Brian had sneaked in, stabbed Katie 82 times, with two of their kids in the house.
No-one knew if they’d witnessed the bloodbath, but they’d been spattered with blood when he dropped them at a relative’s and fled. Unimaginable.
Through my raw grief, I arranged Katie’s funeral, gave a eulogy describing my bubbly and wonderful sister, who’d do anything for those she loved.
In February 2009, Brian Taylor, then 29, appeared at Manchester Crown Court, pleaded guilty to murder.
The court heard that, before the attack, Taylor had told friends Katie was ‘doing his head in’ and said, ‘I feel like killing her. I feel like stabbing her.’
‘How long do you think I’ll get for killing her?’
Two days later, he’d picked up a 20cm kitchen knife and killed my sister.
Neighbours heard Katie scream, ‘Stop it, don’t do it!’
But Taylor continued his drink- and drug-fuelled attack, stabbing her even as the knife handle broke from the blade.
Taylor was sentenced to life, to serve a minimum of 17 years and six months.
My grief was agonising, I missed Katie so much.
The police had been alerted about Taylor’s behaviour 11 times in 16 months, five in the week Katie was killed.
Most calls were from me. A report found that the Greater Manchester Police failed to identify the pattern of problems.
Improvements were made in how the Force deals with domestic-violence cases.
And, wanting Katie’s story to warn others, I’ve spent a decade working with domestic-violence charity Refuge.
Speaking at conferences, and even addressing the House of Lords.
There needs to be much more support for victims and more education on domestic violence.
Someone you love might be suffering.
Nothing can bring Katie back, but I hope we can save someone else.
The police had been alerted about him 11 times