Cynically, I don't check my Nicola case-focused email every day, because I'm so used to the powers that be ignoring me for months on end. So I was shocked to find yesterday that Lancashire Constabulary actually emailed me on May 7 with a partial response to
Yesterday was a year since the event that is, in my view, inextricably linked to Nicola Bulley's death. An event that still has so little clarity: Who made the 999 call that night? Her sister, as reported at the inquest, or her partner, as reported by the College
I have a list of women's names a mile long. Women who are no longer here because their husbands, boyfriends, exes, partners or blood relatives snuffed them out, by their own hand or a hired hand. Some of them took hours to be caught. Some months, some years.
I am on a lonely road and I am traveling, traveling, traveling, traveling. I time-travel back to England every day via X. It's not the same. The same as being there, or the same as it was before. The gooey days of December Twentysomething usher in this kind
Before the College of Policing report came out, I didn't have much new to say. After nine long months, I was rudderless. So I focused on Twitter/X and a little of YouTube, on reading what everyone else was still hard at work trying to figure out: walking
