If you don’t forgive the person who harmed you, you become like them...
helped him come to terms with his trauma. He says: “The nature of human existence is from darkness to light. So, for me, my mother’s killer represents the darkness of human existence.” Father and son now share an unbreakable bond, mirroring each other’s expressions as they sit together.
They are writing a series of children’s books based on Alex’s childhood – with Molly taking a starring role – and self-help books based on their shared trauma. English literature HAPPY Rachel with Andre student Rachel was just 19 when she met semi-professional tennis player Andre at a swimming pool where she was working as a lifeguard.
It was a whirlwind romance, and she was pregnant with Alex within months. Andre still smiles now, nearly 30 years on, at the thought of her.
“Rachel has had a huge influence on the way things turned out,” he tells me.
“She made it clear that if anything happened to her that she wanted me to bring Alex up in the best way RACHEL NICKELL’S SON ALEX HANSCOMBE
possible. She lavished so much attention on Alex in the three years they were together, that she imbued him with that strength and independence.”
On that terrible summer day in 1992, a passer-by found Alex, who was less than a month away from his third birthday, clinging onto Rachel’s bloodsoaked body, repeatedly crying, “Wake up, Mummy”.
In Alex’s autobiography – written nearly 25 years after his mother’s death – he recalls that day with
alarming clarity, despite his young age, remembering: “In less than a split second, life seemed to have come to a standstill. She was gone.”
But now he tells me: “I never think about it.” Instead, he remembers the happiness they enjoyed during their short time together.
“I have memories of that day, but fortunately for me I also have memories of us all being together, of loving and being loved in return.”
One painful memory for Andre is Andre, left, and son Alex Hanscombe Mum and son in 1992
the worry he carried for years after the killing, before the culprit was caught. “I was in fear of Alex’s life,” he tells me.
Alex explains: “I was the only witness to my mother’s murder, and there was always the chance the killer could come back.”
Andre, originally from London, adds: “There was the possibility he could find us. I felt safer abroad.”
Now, the 10-year anniversary of Napper’s confession holds little significance for the pair.
Alex tells me “life had moved on” for the family long before Napper’s admission. He explains: “We had to find closure away from that.
“We had to live with the fact this case might never be solved, to find a way of finding peace and stability.”
And one source of stability was Molly, the now-deceased Labradorgreyhound cross dog who Alex affectionately referred to as his “little sister”. “Rachel used to say we were her little pack,” Andre smiles.
“She really instilled that in us. She had such an infectious smile. She was an old soul, someone you don’t forget.”