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Yahoo
16-05-2025
- Politics
- Yahoo
Lucy Connolly poses no risk to anyone – let her go!
Lucy Connolly should be at home today. Snuggling up with her daughter on the sofa, reassuring the distraught 12-year-old, 'It's OK, Mummy's here now'; reclaiming her kitchen, making dinner for Ray who has stoically held the fort for 10 months but badly misses his wife's steak, egg and chips. Times are really hard for the Connollys. So why isn't the 42-year-old Northampton childminder back where she belongs after a 10-month ordeal that began back in July when she posted a horrible tweet on the night of the Southport massacre? The official explanation is that, on Thursday, after several hours of dense legal argument the Court of Appeal decided that it couldn't reach a decision that day and would instead offer a written judgment 'as soon as possible', even though the three judges had all the documentary evidence they needed to make a decision there and then. And further delay meant another weekend in prison for Lucy. The unofficial explanation was offered by Ray Connolly, who was sitting on the bench next to me in court seven when we heard the devastating news that his wife would not be let out. 'It's terrible, but it's not surprising,' Ray sighed. 'Every time with Lucy there's a delay or some reason why they won't let her have things. Other girls who have done far worse than her, drug dealers, violent women, they get bail, they get let out early, they get ROTL (Release on Temporary Licence) because they need to pay their mortgage or whatever, but Lucy doesn't even get ROTL to be with our daughter.' Ray, a Conservative county councillor who narrowly lost his seat in the Reform Local Election tsunami, has got used to the fact that the woman he clearly adores became the poster girl for Sir Keir Starmer's crackdown on 'far-Right thuggery' during last summer's riots. To show mercy to Lucy Connolly now would be in some way to admit that the Prime Minister was mistaken and the sentences doled out to protestors were, in many cases, outrageously harsh. Although he was expecting bad news, Ray visibly flinched and reached for my arm when, at around 4.45pm, Lord Justice Holroyde said he knew that the lack of a decision would be 'disappointing' to Mrs Connolly. Just a bit disappointing, Your Lordship. On her 279th day in captivity, Lucy appeared in court via video-link from HMP Drake Hall in Staffordshire. She wore a floral dress, her brown, shoulder-length hair was nicely blow-dried; she was trying to look as presentable as a weary jailbird could. Ray told me Lucy had been physically sick with nerves the night before, but she presented herself impeccably, giving thoughtful, intelligent answers to her barrister, Adam King KC (a godsend paid for by the Free Speech Union). She managed to stay calm even when the barrister for the Crown goaded her, saying she was a racist who wanted immigrants to die. While she made no attempt to avoid culpability or downplay her 'disgusting' tweet, Lucy otherwise held her ground, saying that anyone who was human was incredibly upset about the slaughter of three little girls at a Taylor Swift dance club. Her concern, she insisted, was with undocumented young male migrants coming to our country who, yes, did pose a risk to children and women. 'Any time people speak out about immigration you're always 'racist'. It's not racist. I just ignore it now,' she said staunchly. I wanted to cheer in that hushed mausoleum of a courtroom. The system has tried to make Lucy Connolly a sacrificial lamb, but she won't go meekly to the slaughter. The only time she broke down was when her two children were mentioned. Holly, who will become a teenager in July, was so angry she was being a 'monster' at school, Lucy said, starting to cry. Her decision to plead guilty (a disaster, as it turned out) was so she could be reunited sooner with her previously good-natured, high-achieving daughter. Harry, the Connollys' firstborn, a gorgeous, sunny little boy, died in 2011 aged 19 months following catastrophic failures by the NHS. Lucy and Ray awoke to find Harry's stiff, lifeless body next to them; Lucy was later diagnosed with PTSD. Ever since, reports of children suffering or dying have sent her into a dark spiral, as they did on July 29 when she tweeted in her rage and her anguish about the horror Axel Rudukabana had unleashed on a roomful of infants. Amazingly, the barrister for the Crown made very little on Thursday of the irrecoverable impact of Harry's tragic death. 'If you've never lost a child, you can't have known what the [Southport victims'] parents were going through. I did,' Lucy told me. 'Mrs Connolly has never trusted authority since Harry's death,' her barrister said, and there she was at the Royal Courts of Justice getting another taste of why 'impartial' authority could not be trusted to do the right or decent thing. I can't tell you how angry I got in that courtroom. No common sense, no kindness, no forgiveness, no mercy. What a chasm there is between the magnificently-appointed, wood-panelled legal bubble in which those clever men argued back and forth and the real world where the majority of people simply can't believe that one horrible tweet, posted in the heat of the moment and deleted within four hours, gets a woman of previous good character 31 months in jail! If it wasn't for the fact that it would have made things worse for Lucy, I was tempted to stand up and shout at the three elderly judges on their exalted perch, 'WHAT THE HELL'S WRONG WITH YOU? LUCY POSES NO RISK TO ANYONE – LET HER GO!' The disproportionate, nay, vindictive treatment of Lucy Connolly is fast adding to popular fears about two-tier Keir and a two-tier justice system in which white people seem to them to fare worse than ethnic minorities. (Judge Melbourne Inman, who lectured Lucy Connolly about our diverse and inclusive society before giving her that crazy sentence, was altogether more lenient with a defendant who had posed with a deactivated AK-47 in a video threatening Tommy Robinson, had 11 previous convictions and had been previously jailed for 12 months!) Is it really an exaggeration to call Lucy a political prisoner in a week when the Justice Secretary Shabana Mahmood announced plans to release prisoners early to free up prison spaces that could involve letting free recalled sex offenders and domestic abusers? I don't think so. Robert Jenrick, Mahmood's Tory shadow, weighed in on Julia Hartley-Brewer's talk show, asking how could it be right for Lucy to go to prison for such a long time for a single offensive tweet, which she quickly deleted, when 'dangerous people' like a man who had just escaped jail 'despite it being found that he had 12,000 pornographic images on his computer', including a one-year-old being raped? 'I think that offends most people's sense of fairness,' Mr Jenrick said. It certainly does. Even in legal circles there is disquiet. 'It's the most appalling and unfair case,' a senior magistrate told me at a recent lunch. 'I would be looking for any reasons to avoid giving someone like Lucy a custodial sentence.' A veteran observer of the criminal justice system draws comparisons: 'I've seen a litany of cases in recent years where a liberal judiciary pats itself on the back for giving truly terrible people the benefit of the doubt and the shortest possible sentences. There is no doubt in my mind that Lucy Connolly was made a scapegoat. She was not even connected with any violence. The fact that, nearly a year later, Appeal Court judges are not accepting the woman needs to get out and be with her innocent young daughter, who is sustaining potentially long-term damage, well, it's unconscionable.' It is unconscionable that people whom we look to for wisdom, and to apply the law fairly, behave in this flagrantly biased way. 'Modern judges are weak,' explains a famous barrister. 'When we protected them from politics they were amazing. Now, too many are low-grade politicians. To get appointed and to advance their careers they must demonstrate a 'commitment to equality and diversity'. This is how they all got captured – by pursuing self-interest.' Such woolly, smug liberalism seems increasingly and woefully out of step with the country that the judiciary presides over. Immigration now dominates the headlines, with the vast majority saying they don't want more than 100,000 new arrivals a year. Lucy Connolly's 'bigoted' concerns about migrants posing a threat to children and women are common parlance. Even Sir Keir is suddenly accessing his inner Enoch Powell, warning there's a risk of becoming strangers in our own land. By the PM's own lights, surely that makes him a 'far-Right thug'? If I had to nominate one person who was responsible for the rioting after the Southport mass murder, it wouldn't be Mrs Connolly for a single tweet, it would be Keir Starmer for depriving the public of information about the radicalised killer. Outside the Royal Courts of Justice, members of the Free Speech Union held a protest, carrying a banner that said: 'Police Our Streets Not Tweets.' The FSU is campaigning to have certain laws repealed so this kind of travesty never happens in future. We should hope that one lasting legacy of the Lucy Connolly case will be a rebalancing of the criminal justice system away from insanely unjust punishment for social media posts in favour of a tough approach to those who actually cause physical harm. As the August deadline for her release approaches, prison authorities have outrageously warned Lucy that she should not expect to go straight home. Due to 'media interest', they'd rather put her in Approved Premises with key workers first. 'What you have to understand, Allison,' an eminent lawyer told me yesterday, 'is the reason they don't want to free Lucy Connolly is because their worst nightmare is you sitting down for a face-to-face interview with Lucy and everyone realising she's not the racist witch it suited them to paint her as, just a really lovely person.' You know, I think the public has already decided whose side they're on. Just after those three Appeal Court judges cruelly declined to make a decision, a crowd-funder was set up to help Lucy Connolly rebuild her shattered life – whenever, that is, the injustice system deigns to give Lucy her freedom back. The total raised in under 24 hours stood at an amazing £24,000. You can help Lucy – and tell Sir Keir what you think about his two-tier justice – by donating too. Broaden your horizons with award-winning British journalism. Try The Telegraph free for 1 month with unlimited access to our award-winning website, exclusive app, money-saving offers and more.
Telegraph
04-04-2025
- Politics
- Telegraph
I heard the full story of the woman jailed for two years for a tweet. Her injustice shames Britain
It is many years since I clambered into a cage in Cambridge's King's Parade for Amnesty International and stared glumly through the bars at a photographer who snapped me for the front page of the student paper. On that drizzly, damp day, we were trying to draw attention to the plight of prisoners in authoritarian countries where people could be thrown into jail for no reason, except to deter other critics of the regime, and denied their basic human rights. In the past few days, I've found myself wondering what that idealistic young student would have thought if you'd told her that, 40 years in the future, she would be writing about a woman thrown into jail in our own country largely to act as a warning to others. A widely-respected and adored childminder described by one parent as 'the kindest British person I've met', a mother of two children (one living, one dead), a carer to a sick husband, by whose side she also appeared in his role as a Tory councillor. As I write this, that woman is not only serving a sentence many legal experts consider to be outrageously harsh, but is being denied the opportunity for time at home with her family which is granted to jailmates around her who are guilty of actual physical harm. 'You've upset a lot of people, Lucy,' one probation officer explained when she asked why she was being denied ROTL (Release on Temporary Licence). If the name Lucy Connolly rings a bell it's because she was one of the 1,500-plus people arrested in connection with the social unrest which followed the July 29 Southport massacre of three little girls at a Taylor Swift-themed dance class. In fact, that's not strictly accurate. Mrs Connolly, then aged 41 – she turned 42 in prison in January – played no part in the rioting, but a tweet she posted on the day when Elsie Dot Stancombe, Bebe King and Alice da Silva Aguiar were murdered by Axel Rudakubana was enough to get her arrested eight days later, and charged under Section 19 of the Public Order Act 1986, with publishing material intending to stir up racial hatred. It was without doubt a horrible, hateful and deeply offensive tweet. 'Mass deportation now, set fire to all the f---ing hotels full of the b-----ds for all I care, while you're at it take the treacherous government and politicians with them. I feel physically sick knowing what these families will now have to endure. If that makes me racist so be it.' Having posted the tweet around 8.30pm, Lucy took the family's German pointer, Harley, for a walk, had a chance to think better of what she'd written in the heat of the moment, returned home and deleted the tweet. It must have been visible for less than four hours, but that was enough time for someone to take a screenshot. Ray Connolly knew how easily his wife was triggered by the suffering and death of children. He says she was always writing to MPs and to the papers if there was ever a case of neglect or kids being harmed on the news. In 2011, the Connollys lost their firstborn, Harry, aged 19 months as a result of atrocious failures in NHS care. After multiple hospital visits, and Lucy pleading with a paediatrician to put the listless toddler on a drip, the Connollys took Harry home and laid him in a cot by their bed. They woke at 4am to find the lifeless body of their tiny son. Lucy screamed at Ray to do CPR while she called an ambulance and Ray, who is an immensely practical chap, best person in a crisis, did his best. 'But rigor mortis had already set in,' he tells me, the horror of that moment never to be extinguished. There followed a bruising battle to 'get justice for Harry'. Although the coroner found a catalogue of catastrophic failures at the hospital, it was not ruled to have committed gross negligence manslaughter as Harry's devastated parents had wanted. ('Those doctors have got away with killing my son,' Lucy said.) The Connollys went on to have a 'rainbow baby', two years later, a daughter called Holly*, now aged 12, but Lucy, who received a diagnosis of PTSD after she lost her baby, never truly recovered. Hearing about a mass stabbing of little girls in Southport was enough to tip her over the edge. When Ray got home that day, he found her in the kitchen with the six toddlers she looked after. 'Lucy was crying.' In the absence of any clear information from the authorities about the killer's identity (Rudakubana was initially described to a disbelieving public only as a Cardiff-born choirboy) and with Merseyside police and Government ministers still insisting the massacre was 'not terror-related' the situation on social media was extremely volatile. There was widespread anger that such a monstrous attack had been targeted at the most vulnerable members of our society. That was the state Lucy Connolly was in when she posted the fifty-one words that would ruin her life for a second time, and turn her into the ideal poster girl for Starmer's pledge to impose heavy sentences on 'far-Right thugs'. Ray knew nothing about the tweet until the police turned up at the house and took his wife away. It was around 8am and all of the infants Lucy looked after were being dropped off for the day by their parents. (Mrs Connolly's precious charges have included Nigerian, Somalian, Jamaican, Bangladeshi, Lithuanian and Polish, as well as white British, kids. 'It's like the blimmin' United Nations in here,' the childminder used to joke.) Lucy went with the police 'quiet as a lamb, she thought if she did as she was told everything would be fine,' recalls Ray. I ask him if he ever thought the family's tragic history and his wife's mental distress would help Lucy with her case. He shakes his head. 'I knew things were bad when Starmer and the Home Office started going on about the 'far-Right', they obviously had an agenda.' Over the next few days, Lucy Connolly ceased to be a person and became a demonised figure stripped of nuance and humanity. 'Conservative councillor's racist wife.' That was her name from now on. Looking back, we can see how it was expedient for panicking politicians to blame social media for civil unrest rather than acknowledge the growing anxiety about uncontrolled immigration that fuelled the rioting. (That would have meant officialdom shouldering some of the blame.) While social media can amplify content that inflames tensions there is little or no evidence that a single post persuades law-abiding people to engage in violent protest. On July 30, the day after Lucy Connolly's tweet, Sir Keir Starmer was jeered when he laid a wreath at the scene of the Southport attack and hastily scuttled away, earning him the nickname 'Nineteen Seconds' for the amount of time he had given the distraught crowd. That same day, newly-elected MP Nigel Farage posted a video in which he asked whether the police were deliberately withholding information from the public and wondered whether the incident was terror-related. The Reform UK leader was widely criticised for giving legitimacy to 'conspiracy theories' about the Southport attacker. Which were true, of course. Down at the police station in Northampton, meanwhile, it was dawning on Lucy Connolly that her protestations that she had made a terrible error of judgment and she was really sorry were falling on deaf ears. 'I couldn't quite believe what they were telling me – someone who'd never broken the law,' Lucy would recall. 'Whatever I'd done, police made it quite clear I was going down for this, their intention was always to hammer me.' The omens were definitely not good. Lucy's lawyer, a young duty solicitor, commissioned a psychiatric report on his client but it felt weirdly perfunctory, far from the rigorous evaluation she'd had in London after Harry's death when she got her diagnosis of PTSD. This new psychiatrist, who spoke to Lucy for just an hour on a video call, 'didn't even ask me about Harry'. There was worse to come. The police and Crown Prosecution Service (CPS) released a statement saying that Lucy 'told officers she did not like immigrants and claimed that children were not safe from them'. But Lucy hadn't said that. What she said in her long interview with the police was, 'I'm well aware that we need immigrants… I'm well aware that if I go to the hospital there are immigrants working there and the hospital wouldn't function without them. I'm [also] well aware of the difference between legal immigrants and illegal immigrants and they are not checked and [nor is] what they might have done (any crimes) in their country of origin – it's a national security issue and they're a danger to children'. Sentiments which are shared by millions of British people. Lucy broke down and cried when she heard how her words had been misrepresented. Whatever else she was, she was not a bigot. Lucy and her two sisters had been raised by an old-fashioned socialist mother to abhor racism. The Connollys asked for a transcript of the police interview which was grudgingly handed over after a long delay. Lucy's mother complained to the CPS and they corrected the statement on their website to match what Lucy had actually said. Too late. Police also accused Lucy of previous racist posts. Turns out she had called a friend 'Pikey' after he had called her 'Brummie c--t'. Even banter could be passed off as evidence of malignant character. After taking advice from her solicitor, Lucy pleaded guilty to the offence of distributing material with the intention of stirring up racial hatred. 'It wasn't my intention to be racist,' Lucy protested, but her initial resolve to fight took a bad knock when a bail application was refused. Lawyers I've spoken to say it was an 'astonishing' decision and that there were no substantial grounds for refusing bail. Lucy had already deleted her Twitter account after posting 'I know people are angry, but violence is not the answer'. So she wasn't going to commit a further offence. Nor was she about to do a runner – not with Ray and Holly at home. In short, there was no justification for keeping Lucy Connolly in custody. Ordinarily, bail would have been a formality. But judges were refusing almost all bail applications connected to the Southport riots. Notably, some of the most senior judges were drafted in to handle cases which would normally be dealt with in a magistrates' court. But magistrates could only impose sentences of up to 12 months – clearly not what the PM, who had set up a violent disorder unit to look like he was in charge, had in mind. 'Collateral damage' Was it true, as some have suggested, that judges all had their orders from above? That seems unlikely. 'I think it was more an informal pressure,' says one senior lawyer who represented a Southport defendant. 'A fear of rioting that had the effect of inducing a herd mentality. There was a sense that judges had to crack down hard on this. So it had the same effect as an order from on high. People like Lucy Connolly were casualties, collateral damage if you like.' With her bail application refused and being held on remand, Lucy was panicking. 'Imagine you're a middle-class mother with a child at home,' says one lawyer. 'You've never had any contact with the police. Suddenly, you're arrested, then thrown into jail. There was a feeling of bewilderment, of terror.' Ray Connolly was convinced by a couple of leading barristers who insisted that his wife should plead not guilty – a jury, they said, was unlikely to convict a patently decent woman like Lucy for one horrible tweet. 'If I could have got her round a table with those barristers, I'm sure she would have gone with 'not guilty',' Ray says. But Lucy herself was in jail where she was surrounded by women who had waited months for a trial date. 'You just don't know how long you'll be here,' she argued with Ray. 'I might not get to court until spring.' She would, however, get a large discount if she pleaded guilty. She'd be out in time for Christmas, she believed. Lucy is a tenacious researcher, but while she was on remand she found it very hard to look things up, get proper advice or even speak to her solicitor. 'It became apparent early on I was a lost cause,' she told Ray. All her life, Lucy had been a fighter for justice. When she was a child, her mother had urged her so many times, 'Lucy, please learn to play the game', but that pugnacious little girl would never listen. 'But it's not fair, Mum,' she always answered. Lucy was weary now, though, the years of fighting for Harry had taken their toll. A guilty plea looked like the fastest way to put this nightmare behind her. 'I don't give a damn about having a criminal record,' she said to herself. 'I want to be at home with Ray and Holly.' It was a terrible decision, if a perfectly understandable one. 'Lucy basically had to admit she was the person she was the opposite of,' says Ray. A sad sentence I can't seem to get out of my head. Cllr Connolly attracted his own share of abuse after he told Sky News, 'Lucy is a good person and not a racist'. For standing up for his wife, Ray faced calls for his resignation. The monitoring officer at West Northamptonshire council received thirteen anonymous complaints which were referred to a fancy London law firm to investigate when they could easily have been handled internally. It looked a lot like the complaints amounted to an attempt by Labour to try to take down a hugely popular Tory councillor when he was acutely vulnerable in an unbearably bleak situation. With the loss of Lucy's income, Ray had already sold his car and cancelled any payments he could without touching Holly's gym classes: anything to preserve some sense of normality while her Mummy was in jail. The lawyers asked Ray to get some character references for Lucy which they could submit to the court. 'I thought because I don't have direct experience of racism,' he told me, 'I'd ask the parents of the children Lucy looked after who do know about racism'. 'One error of judgment' I have copies of those references here in front of me and, you know what, it would be hard to find more glowing testimonials. One woman doctor wrote: 'I first met Lucy whilst looking for a childminder for my then one-year-old daughter. Since then I have never had any cause to doubt Lucy's kindness and warmness. In this time, I have known Lucy to be the kindest, most diligent person who looked after everyone and anyone without any regard for their race or ethnicity. We are originally from Nigeria and moved to the UK for work. Lucy has looked after my daughter as I may expect to do myself as her parent. I also watched her interactions with other people of different races and religions and the care offered was always the same. 'Even my family back home all know Lucy because [of] how fondly I talk about her, in fact I have often described her to them as the kindest British person I know.' Lucy even acted as a formal referee when members of the family applied for British citizenship. 'First my daughter last year and even more recently for my husband. She personally drove to my home to drop these letters herself. This is certainly not the behaviour of a racist person. It is my sincerest hope and plea, that one error of judgment is not used to judge an otherwise unblemished record of kindness and openness that Lucy has shown everyone she has come across.' Another set of parents seconded that view: 'We have had the privilege of knowing Lucy for [the] last four years … As we work in the NHS and have a busy schedule, we have been reliant on Lucy's childminding service. Lucy has consistently demonstrated integrity, honesty and respect in all our interactions, both personally and professionally. She is well-regarded for her strong work ethic, dedication, trustworthiness and sense of responsibility. 'In addition, Lucy is also compassionate and empathetic, always willing to offer assistance to those in need. We came to this country as immigrants working in the NHS and naturalised over the time. We have different faith and belief from Lucy's, but Lucy has always been respectful towards us and kind to our child. We have never witnessed any racial discrimination or behaviour from her or her lovely family. We can say with full conviction that over the years, Lucy has become a very good friend on whom we can rely and seeing her getting arrested has been extremely painful and shocking for us. We sincerely hope you take these facts into consideration prior to her pre-sentencing.' No facts of the kind presented in support of Lucy by the immigrant parents who adored her appeared to carry much weight with His Honour Judge Melbourne Inman KC, recorder of Birmingham, when he began his sentencing remarks on October 17 last year. He said: 'This is one of a number of cases that this court has had to deal with arising from civil unrest following the very tragic events in Southport on the 29th July 2024. As everyone is aware some people used that tragedy as an opportunity to sow division and hatred, often using social media, leading to a number of towns and cities being disfigured by mindless and racist violence, intimidation and damage… It is [a] strength of our society that it is both diverse and inclusive. There is always a very small minority of people who will seek an excuse to use violence and disorder causing injury, damage, loss and fear to wholly innocent members of the public and sentences for those who incite racial hatred and disharmony in our society are intended to both punish and deter.' Ray, who was in the court in his best Armani suit and polished Church's shoes ('From a mate, I couldn't afford them otherwise') froze. 'As soon as Judge Inman started talking about diversity and inclusion, I thought, 'Oh, my God, you don't know what you're saying'. If anything happened to those parents, they would quite happily let Lucy keep their kids and look after them like her own. She really, really would.' Judge Inman directly linked Lucy's short-lived tweet to 'serious disorder in a number of areas of the country where mindless violence was used to cause injury and damage to wholly innocent members of the public and to their properties'. He went on to say her culpability was 'clearly a category A case – as both prosecution and your counsel agree, because you intended to incite serious violence'. No, she most certainly did not intend to incite serious violence. Judge Inman also claimed that Lucy failed to offer words of comfort to the Southport victims although she specifically said in her notorious tweet, 'I feel physically sick knowing what these families will now have to endure'. There spoke a mother who had lost her own beloved child and was aware, to her infinite sorrow, that you never get over it. The sentence Lucy Connolly received for a post on social media – 31 months – was greeted with general disbelief in legal circles. 'Sickening', 'outrageous', 'a normally reliable judge was wildly out', are a few of the printable comments. Although Lucy was given 25 per cent off for her guilty plea, the judge paid remarkably little heed to personal and general mitigations: Lucy Connolly was a first-time offender, a person of good character, a mother of a 12-year-old child, a carer for a husband with a serious blood disease; she suffered acute anxiety and was on medication as a result of huge personal trauma. Her sentence is even more mind-boggling when you consider that Ricky Jones, then a Labour councillor (now suspended), was charged with encouraging violent disorder around the same time as Lucy Connolly. Footage of an 'anti-fascist' rally went viral showing Cllr Jones spew bile at 'disgusting Nazi fascists' saying, 'We need to cut their throats and get rid of them'. The former trade union official was remanded in custody until the autumn when he was granted bail and in January his trial was put back until August – a full year since his alleged offence took place. Maybe threats from Left-wing men are viewed as harmless rhetorical devices, unlike tweets from Right-wing women? Hard not to agree with Lucy Connolly: whatever she said, in two-tier Kier's justice system they were out to hammer her. 'I daren't tell Lucy they've given Ricky Jones bail,' Ray told me this week. 'It would kill her, the injustice of it. But Lucy was the perfect message for Starmer after Southport, wasn't she? If they could do that to a nice, middle-class lady like her, imagine what they could do to you.' 'It would be hilarious, if it wasn't so horrifying' After she got that deafening two-and-a-half year jail sentence, Lucy messaged her husband and daughter: 'Please don't live on chicken nuggets and Haribos.' As Mrs Connolly arrived at Peterborough jail – 'The most petrified person I've ever seen arrive here,' said one prison officer – a doctor, the father of one of the 'scrumptious' little girls Lucy looked after, was on his way to the immigration office to submit his citizenship application. Among his documents, there was a reference from the Kindest British Person his family knew. As on so many occasions, Lucy Connolly, poster girl for racism and designated scapegoat, had done everything she could to help. What kind of racist does that? As Lucy's tearful mother said to me, 'It would be hilarious, Allison, if it wasn't so horrifying'. Despite her fears, Lucy Connolly settled in well to prison life. Although there was initially a bit of suspicion – 'You're posh, you're an MP's wife' – she says she 'met some amazing ladies and girls, they really looked out for me'. Among her fellow jailmates were drug dealers, thieves and murderers like the wonderfully named Patio Sue, who was 'remorseful' for burying both her parents in the back garden. When the other inmates questioned Lucy about her crime – 'What you in for?' – and she explained it was a post on social media, 'they cracked up'. It is the correct reaction, I think. 'Lucy got on great with some of the most difficult prisoners,' says Ray in his Midlands accent with its distinctive soft, hammocky vowels. 'There was this strong, scary, very attractive, powerful Jamaican girl and she was really kicking off with the prison officers, and they didn't know what to do, and Lucy went over, sort of grabbed her and gave her a big cuddle. The officers said, 'What's wrong with her?', and Lucy said, 'She wants her Mum'.' The childminder had found her niche as a mother hen to some very damaged and vulnerable young women. 'They sat in Lucy's cell for hours, chatting and setting the world to rights,' Ray says proudly. 'Lucy's asking me to send extra money in 'cause there's homeless girls in there and they've got no financial support from outside.' We are talking at the kitchen table in the Connollys' 1930s semi with bow-fronted windows in a placid Northampton suburb. Harley the dog, who misses Lucy terribly ('he goes nuts running to the front door when I've got Lucy on speakerphone from prison') won't leave my side. Through the French doors onto the back garden, I can see the Wendy House and other toys that Lucy's small charges used to play with, mementoes of a happier time. On the shelf behind us, there are two 'Free Lucy Connolly' mugs, a gift from a police officer friend whom Ray was worried wouldn't talk to him after Lucy's arrest. 'He said, don't worry, Ray, lots of the lads down the stations are right behind you. They think it's mad what's happened to Lucy.' On the way in, I admired a pretty Easter wreath of pastel flowers and eggs tied to the front door. Given everything he's dealing with, I tell Ray I'm amazed he remembered to put that up. 'I want things to keep as normal as possible,' he says. 'So Holly doesn't think too much has changed with her Mummy away.' He apologises for the bags of balls and other golf paraphernalia in the entrance porch (Ray is a local golf champ who met his future wife, seventeen years his junior, in the clubhouse). 'Lucy won't be pleased to see all this stuff when she gets home,' he laughs. At that point, Holly comes into the kitchen to make a cup of tea and there is some good-natured banter with her dad. When I ask, 'Is he taking good care of you?' she laughs and says, 'I do all the cooking'. Although she looks radiant with health, Holly was recently suspended from school after a deterioration in her behaviour, which is clearly linked to Lucy's absence. 'I do my best,' says Ray. 'But she tells me to 'go away, Dad'. She needs her mum.' Like her mother, Holly is not afraid to speak out when she thinks someone has done something unfair. 'But that's a teacher!' her father protests in vain. On the phone, Holly's grandmother, Heather*, tells me her daughter Lucy is very house proud and fastidious. 'She got the A levels, but she didn't want to go to uni because she didn't like the thought of living in a shared house with 20 messy people. Now she's living in a prison house with 20 people – she can sort of see the funny side!' Heather says Lucy insisted Ray got out the Emma Bridgewater Christmas crockery, 'and she'll be insisting he gets out the Emma Bridgewater Easter stuff – he'd better!' Whenever Lucy is 'spiralling' because of her anxiety, she just gets fixated on an issue – on something in the world she thinks is unjust, says Heather. 'And I'll say to her, 'No point getting yourself in a tizz about that, love.'' But injustice has always been a big thing for her eldest daughter, the one who always looked after the waifs and strays at school. 'She gets sick and starts shaking, her brain doesn't work – like when she wrote that awful tweet.' (Heather thinks Lucy's decision to plead guilty arose out of her anxiety to get back to Holly as quickly as possible. She thought she'd be home by Christmas and that she'd get an 'HDC' (home detention curfew), or 'Tag' – a home detention curfew, as part of which the prisoner wears an electronic tag). 'Because Harry died, she thinks something terrible will happen to Holly, and you can't tell her different.' Heather says she felt 'ashamed' initially when she found out what her eldest daughter had done – 'Can't defend it, it was horrible what she said, but the punishment is out of all proportion' – but she has since been a staunch maternal ally, badgering the Ministry of Justice to find out why Lucy is being denied the home leave that is granted to prisoners who have committed far graver crimes. 'Lucy's probation officer said she didn't belong in jail.' She pauses, hearing what she just said. 'Imagine my Lucy having a probation officer – it's surreal. 'We've been through worse,' Lucy's mum says suddenly. And, then, at the thought of her dead grandson, I hear her start to cry. Back in the Connolly kitchen, Ray is telling me about his wife's struggle to get the home leave to which she has been entitled since November. The injustice system had not put Lucy through enough by incarcerating her for longer than many paedophiles, or so it would seem. At Peterborough, Lucy's probation officer, a man with 18 years experience, told Lucy: 'We used to have the best justice system in the world – not any longer.' The probation officer fought for Lucy, Ray says. In a video call, the external probation officer said they were astonished at the refusal of applications for ROTL – which are supposed to be part of the rehabilitation process. Lucy claims that the deputy governor told the probation officer that there was 'no way' Lucy would get let out with a tag 'because of press and public perception'. Lucy lodged a formal complaint about the ROTL refusal. The response from officials was that it was due to her risk assessment not being completed – which was contrary to what Lucy had been led to believe. But Lucy knew she was entitled to ROTL. 'I've read every single case about requirements for ROTL,' she writes. 'Are you low risk to the community? Yes, I am. Are you the primary carer for your child? Yes. If you are, you can apply for childcare ROTL.' To add insult to injury, two of Lucy's fellow prisoners who applied at the same time were granted home detention curfews. Both girls had been presumed unsuitable due to their charges of death by dangerous driving. Both girl had direct victims. 'I did not,' Lucy scrawls furiously, 'yet my crime was apparently worse than the death of someone'. In frustration, and feeling the hierarchy at Peterborough were against her, although she loved the prison officers, Lucy requested and got a transfer to an open prison in Staffordshire, where she hoped to find a more sympathetic governor. Ray thrusts a sheaf of papers at me; they are written in biro in Lucy's neat hand. Page after tragic, futile page of carefully researched reasons why she should be let out to see her daughter and her husband, who is doing a brilliant job of holding the fort, but is not sleeping from the worry of it all. 'I've aged ten years,' Ray says, shards of blue eyes flashing whether with defiance or defeat I cannot tell. 'Exceptional circumstances' As we sit together, Harley snuffling beside us, I read aloud from one of Lucy's recent appeals: 'You state that your decision is based on my current circumstances and not the circumstances surrounding my offence. However, I feel you have completely missed my point in my original appeal. The situation is putting additional stress on my husband and a detriment to his health. He doesn't just have a cold he has bone marrow failure… On top of this, since submitting my original appeal my daughter has been suspended from school which is totally out of character. The trauma of her mummy being away from her will affect her for years to come. 'You are not taking any of this into consideration… as the whole system is corrupt. You also state it's impossible to give definitive guidance on what constitutes 'exceptional circumstances' but in the next sentence you write that I do not currently constitute exceptional circumstances. The two contradict one another. You need to give me an example of an exceptional reason. I believe you are just making excuses and your strings are being pulled by someone from outside the prison service. You state the prison has to comply with the court but the LAW actually states I AM ELIGIBLE for Tag but presumed unsuitable. Please explain who is presuming I am unsuitable and for what reason?' On and on, she goes, like a moth batting furiously against the light, concluding desperately, 'While you are playing politics, my 12-year-old is suffering and my husband's health continues to deteriorate. I will emphasise again, the LAW states I am eligible for Tag'. So, this is a big question, I say to Ray Connolly, but do you think your wife is a kind of political prisoner? Ray pats Harley's head and takes a swallow of tea before replying, 'I think they want to use her as an example. Political? Maybe it could be deemed to be that way, but I think they like the idea of Lucy still being in prison just to send out a clear warning to people: 'You really need to watch what you say because, look! The consequences are going to be quite horrendous for you if you don't.' 'Put it this way, Allison, I think it certainly suits the narrative of the Government to have Lucy as their poster girl for racism, which is ridiculous when you know Lucy.' At one level, this is a terrible tragedy for a family that knows tragedy too well, but pull the camera back and we see the wider picture of free speech and where its limits lie. That's why Lucy's latest appeal is being funded by the Free Speech Union. 'Why are people more concerned by my political views than by the actual murder of three little girls?' demanded Lucy in one of her final tweets. She was right about the rush to deflection after the heinous Southport massacre. It seems to me the state knows that uncontrolled immigration has unleashed forces which it has no idea how to contain – namely that the suffering of white girls is a secondary consideration compared to avoiding the stirring up of racial hatred. Diversity is not always a strength, sometimes it's a scary problem. The sticking-plaster solution is to silence those who express their distress, or turn them into witches. So successful was the campaign to demonise Lucy Connolly that, until now, it has been taboo to suggest that her imprisonment is appalling. Many who heard about her draconian sentence may have thought, 'She must have deserved it'. Well, I hope I have offered some proof that is wrong, and that 'Conservative councillor's racist wife' was a handy label to demonise a good person who made a dreadful mistake. Lucy is a victim of two-tier justice. What has happened to her shames a free country, I think. It upsets everyone who knows her and loves her, and those who know her do love her. On May 15, Lucy Connolly's case will be heard by the Court of Appeal. Pray for her.
Yahoo
04-04-2025
- Politics
- Yahoo
I heard the full story of the woman jailed for two years for a tweet. Her injustice shames Britain
It is many years since I clambered into a cage in Cambridge's King's Parade for Amnesty International and stared glumly through the bars at a photographer who snapped me for the front page of the student paper. On that drizzly, damp day, we were trying to draw attention to the plight of prisoners in authoritarian countries where people could be thrown into jail for no reason, except to deter other critics of the regime, and denied their basic human rights. In the past few days, I've found myself wondering what that idealistic young student would have thought if you'd told her that, 40 years in the future, she would be writing about a woman thrown into jail in our own country largely to act as a warning to others. A widely-respected and adored childminder described by one parent as 'the kindest British person I've met', a mother of two children (one living, one dead), a carer to a sick husband, by whose side she also appeared in his role as a Tory councillor. As I write this, that woman is not only serving a sentence many legal experts consider to be outrageously harsh, but is being denied the opportunity for time at home with her family which is granted to jailmates around her who are guilty of actual physical harm. 'You've upset a lot of people, Lucy,' one probation officer explained when she asked why she was being denied ROTL (Release on Temporary Licence). If the name Lucy Connolly rings a bell it's because she was one of the 1,500-plus people arrested in connection with the social unrest which followed the July 29 Southport massacre of three little girls at a Taylor Swift-themed dance class. In fact, that's not strictly accurate. Mrs Connolly, then aged 41 – she turned 42 in prison in January – played no part in the rioting, but a tweet she posted on the day when Elsie Dot Stancombe, Bebe King and Alice da Silva Aguiar were murdered by Axel Rudakubana was enough to get her arrested eight days later, and charged under Section 19 of the Public Order Act 1986, with publishing material intending to stir up racial hatred. It was without doubt a horrible, hateful and deeply offensive tweet. 'Mass deportation now, set fire to all the f---ing hotels full of the b-----ds for all I care, while you're at it take the treacherous government and politicians with them. I feel physically sick knowing what these families will now have to endure. If that makes me racist so be it.' Having posted the tweet around 8.30pm, Lucy took the family's German pointer, Harley, for a walk, had a chance to think better of what she'd written in the heat of the moment, returned home and deleted the tweet. It must have been visible for less than four hours, but that was enough time for someone to take a screenshot. Ray Connolly knew how easily his wife was triggered by the suffering and death of children. He says she was always writing to MPs and to the papers if there was ever a case of neglect or kids being harmed on the news. In 2011, the Connollys lost their firstborn, Harry, aged 19 months as a result of atrocious failures in NHS care. After multiple hospital visits, and Lucy pleading with a paediatrician to put the listless toddler on a drip, the Connollys took Harry home and laid him in a cot by their bed. They woke at 4am to find the lifeless body of their tiny son. Lucy screamed at Ray to do CPR while she called an ambulance and Ray, who is an immensely practical chap, best person in a crisis, did his best. 'But rigor mortis had already set in,' he tells me, the horror of that moment never to be extinguished. There followed a bruising battle to 'get justice for Harry'. Although the coroner found a catalogue of catastrophic failures at the hospital, it was not ruled to have committed gross negligence manslaughter as Harry's devastated parents had wanted. ('Those doctors have got away with killing my son,' Lucy said.) The Connollys went on to have a 'rainbow baby', two years later, a daughter called Holly*, now aged 12, but Lucy, who received a diagnosis of PTSD after she lost her baby, never truly recovered. Hearing about a mass stabbing of little girls in Southport was enough to tip her over the edge. When Ray got home that day, he found her in the kitchen with the six toddlers she looked after. 'Lucy was crying.' In the absence of any clear information from the authorities about the killer's identity (Rudakubana was initially described to a disbelieving public only as a Cardiff-born choirboy) and with Merseyside police and Government ministers still insisting the massacre was 'not terror-related' the situation on social media was extremely volatile. There was widespread anger that such a monstrous attack had been targeted at the most vulnerable members of our society. That was the state Lucy Connolly was in when she posted the fifty-one words that would ruin her life for a second time, and turn her into the ideal poster girl for Starmer's pledge to impose heavy sentences on 'far-Right thugs'. Ray knew nothing about the tweet until the police turned up at the house and took his wife away. It was around 8am and all of the infants Lucy looked after were being dropped off for the day by their parents. (Mrs Connolly's precious charges have included Nigerian, Somalian, Jamaican, Bangladeshi, Lithuanian and Polish, as well as white British, kids. 'It's like the blimmin' United Nations in here,' the childminder used to joke.) Lucy went with the police 'quiet as a lamb, she thought if she did as she was told everything would be fine,' recalls Ray. I ask him if he ever thought the family's tragic history and his wife's mental distress would help Lucy with her case. He shakes his head. 'I knew things were bad when Starmer and the Home Office started going on about the 'far-Right', they obviously had an agenda.' Over the next few days, Lucy Connolly ceased to be a person and became a demonised figure stripped of nuance and humanity. 'Conservative councillor's racist wife.' That was her name from now on. Looking back, we can see how it was expedient for panicking politicians to blame social media for civil unrest rather than acknowledge the growing anxiety about uncontrolled immigration that fuelled the rioting. (That would have meant officialdom shouldering some of the blame.) While social media can amplify content that inflames tensions there is little or no evidence that a single post persuades law-abiding people to engage in violent protest. On July 30, the day after Lucy Connolly's tweet, Sir Keir Starmer was jeered when he laid a wreath at the scene of the Southport attack and hastily scuttled away, earning him the nickname 'Nineteen Seconds' for the amount of time he had given the distraught crowd. That same day, newly-elected MP Nigel Farage posted a video in which he asked whether the police were deliberately withholding information from the public and wondered whether the incident was terror-related. The Reform UK leader was widely criticised for giving legitimacy to 'conspiracy theories' about the Southport attacker. Which were true, of course. Down at the police station in Northampton, meanwhile, it was dawning on Lucy Connolly that her protestations that she had made a terrible error of judgment and she was really sorry were falling on deaf ears. 'I couldn't quite believe what they were telling me – someone who'd never broken the law,' Lucy would recall. 'Whatever I'd done, police made it quite clear I was going down for this, their intention was always to hammer me.' The omens were definitely not good. Lucy's lawyer, a young duty solicitor, commissioned a psychiatric report on his client but it felt weirdly perfunctory, far from the rigorous evaluation she'd had in London after Harry's death when she got her diagnosis of PTSD. This new psychiatrist, who spoke to Lucy for just an hour on a video call, 'didn't even ask me about Harry'. There was worse to come. The police and Crown Prosecution Service (CPS) released a statement saying that Lucy 'told officers she did not like immigrants and claimed that children were not safe from them'. But Lucy hadn't said that. What she said in her long interview with the police was, 'I'm well aware that we need immigrants… I'm well aware that if I go to the hospital there are immigrants working there and the hospital wouldn't function without them. I'm [also] well aware of the difference between legal immigrants and illegal immigrants and they are not checked and [nor is] what they might have done (any crimes) in their country of origin – it's a national security issue and they're a danger to children'. Sentiments which are shared by millions of British people. Lucy broke down and cried when she heard how her words had been misrepresented. Whatever else she was, she was not a bigot. Lucy and her two sisters had been raised by an old-fashioned socialist mother to abhor racism. The Connollys asked for a transcript of the police interview which was grudgingly handed over after a long delay. Lucy's mother complained to the CPS and they corrected the statement on their website to match what Lucy had actually said. Too late. Police also accused Lucy of previous racist posts. Turns out she had called a friend 'Pikey' after he had called her 'Brummie c--t'. Even banter could be passed off as evidence of malignant character. After taking advice from her solicitor, Lucy pleaded guilty to the offence of distributing material with the intention of stirring up racial hatred. 'It wasn't my intention to be racist,' Lucy protested, but her initial resolve to fight took a bad knock when a bail application was refused. Lawyers I've spoken to say it was an 'astonishing' decision and that there were no substantial grounds for refusing bail. Lucy had already deleted her Twitter account after posting 'I know people are angry, but violence is not the answer'. So she wasn't going to commit a further offence. Nor was she about to do a runner – not with Ray and Holly at home. In short, there was no justification for keeping Lucy Connolly in custody. Ordinarily, bail would have been a formality. But judges were refusing almost all bail applications connected to the Southport riots. Notably, some of the most senior judges were drafted in to handle cases which would normally be dealt with in a magistrates' court. But magistrates could only impose sentences of up to 12 months – clearly not what the PM, who had set up a violent disorder unit to look like he was in charge, had in mind. Was it true, as some have suggested, that judges all had their orders from above? That seems unlikely. 'I think it was more an informal pressure,' says one senior lawyer who represented a Southport defendant. 'A fear of rioting that had the effect of inducing a herd mentality. There was a sense that judges had to crack down hard on this. So it had the same effect as an order from on high. People like Lucy Connolly were casualties, collateral damage if you like.' With her bail application refused and being held on remand, Lucy was panicking. 'Imagine you're a middle-class mother with a child at home,' says one lawyer. 'You've never had any contact with the police. Suddenly, you're arrested, then thrown into jail. There was a feeling of bewilderment, of terror.' Ray Connolly was convinced by a couple of leading barristers who insisted that his wife should plead not guilty – a jury, they said, was unlikely to convict a patently decent woman like Lucy for one horrible tweet. 'If I could have got her round a table with those barristers, I'm sure she would have gone with 'not guilty',' Ray says. But Lucy herself was in jail where she was surrounded by women who had waited months for a trial date. 'You just don't know how long you'll be here,' she argued with Ray. 'I might not get to court until spring.' She would, however, get a large discount if she pleaded guilty. She'd be out in time for Christmas, she believed. Lucy is a tenacious researcher, but while she was on remand she found it very hard to look things up, get proper advice or even speak to her solicitor. 'It became apparent early on I was a lost cause,' she told Ray. All her life, Lucy had been a fighter for justice. When she was a child, her mother had urged her so many times, 'Lucy, please learn to play the game', but that pugnacious little girl would never listen. 'But it's not fair, Mum,' she always answered. Lucy was weary now, though, the years of fighting for Harry had taken their toll. A guilty plea looked like the fastest way to put this nightmare behind her. 'I don't give a damn about having a criminal record,' she said to herself. 'I want to be at home with Ray and Holly.' It was a terrible decision, if a perfectly understandable one. 'Lucy basically had to admit she was the person she was the opposite of,' says Ray. A sad sentence I can't seem to get out of my head. Cllr Connolly attracted his own share of abuse after he told Sky News, 'Lucy is a good person and not a racist'. For standing up for his wife, Ray faced calls for his resignation. The monitoring officer at West Northamptonshire council received thirteen anonymous complaints which were referred to a fancy London law firm to investigate when they could easily have been handled internally. It looked a lot like the complaints amounted to an attempt by Labour to try to take down a hugely popular Tory councillor when he was acutely vulnerable in an unbearably bleak situation. With the loss of Lucy's income, Ray had already sold his car and cancelled any payments he could without touching Holly's gym classes: anything to preserve some sense of normality while her Mummy was in jail. The lawyers asked Ray to get some character references for Lucy which they could submit to the court. 'I thought because I don't have direct experience of racism,' he told me, 'I'd ask the parents of the children Lucy looked after who do know about racism'. I have copies of those references here in front of me and, you know what, it would be hard to find more glowing testimonials. One woman doctor wrote: 'I first met Lucy whilst looking for a childminder for my then one-year-old daughter. Since then I have never had any cause to doubt Lucy's kindness and warmness. In this time, I have known Lucy to be the kindest, most diligent person who looked after everyone and anyone without any regard for their race or ethnicity. We are originally from Nigeria and moved to the UK for work. Lucy has looked after my daughter as I may expect to do myself as her parent. I also watched her interactions with other people of different races and religions and the care offered was always the same. 'Even my family back home all know Lucy because [of] how fondly I talk about her, in fact I have often described her to them as the kindest British person I know.' Lucy even acted as a formal referee when members of the family applied for British citizenship. 'First my daughter last year and even more recently for my husband. She personally drove to my home to drop these letters herself. This is certainly not the behaviour of a racist person. It is my sincerest hope and plea, that one error of judgment is not used to judge an otherwise unblemished record of kindness and openness that Lucy has shown everyone she has come across.' Another set of parents seconded that view: 'We have had the privilege of knowing Lucy for [the] last four years … As we work in the NHS and have a busy schedule, we have been reliant on Lucy's childminding service. Lucy has consistently demonstrated integrity, honesty and respect in all our interactions, both personally and professionally. She is well-regarded for her strong work ethic, dedication, trustworthiness and sense of responsibility. 'In addition, Lucy is also compassionate and empathetic, always willing to offer assistance to those in need. We came to this country as immigrants working in the NHS and naturalised over the time. We have different faith and belief from Lucy's, but Lucy has always been respectful towards us and kind to our child. We have never witnessed any racial discrimination or behaviour from her or her lovely family. We can say with full conviction that over the years, Lucy has become a very good friend on whom we can rely and seeing her getting arrested has been extremely painful and shocking for us. We sincerely hope you take these facts into consideration prior to her pre-sentencing.' No facts of the kind presented in support of Lucy by the immigrant parents who adored her appeared to carry much weight with His Honour Judge Melbourne Inman KC, recorder of Birmingham, when he began his sentencing remarks on October 17 last year. He said: 'This is one of a number of cases that this court has had to deal with arising from civil unrest following the very tragic events in Southport on the 29th July 2024. As everyone is aware some people used that tragedy as an opportunity to sow division and hatred, often using social media, leading to a number of towns and cities being disfigured by mindless and racist violence, intimidation and damage… It is [a] strength of our society that it is both diverse and inclusive. There is always a very small minority of people who will seek an excuse to use violence and disorder causing injury, damage, loss and fear to wholly innocent members of the public and sentences for those who incite racial hatred and disharmony in our society are intended to both punish and deter.' Ray, who was in the court in his best Armani suit and polished Church's shoes ('From a mate, I couldn't afford them otherwise') froze. 'As soon as Judge Inman started talking about diversity and inclusion, I thought, 'Oh, my God, you don't know what you're saying'. If anything happened to those parents, they would quite happily let Lucy keep their kids and look after them like her own. She really, really would.' Judge Inman directly linked Lucy's short-lived tweet to 'serious disorder in a number of areas of the country where mindless violence was used to cause injury and damage to wholly innocent members of the public and to their properties'. He went on to say her culpability was 'clearly a category A case – as both prosecution and your counsel agree, because you intended to incite serious violence'. No, she most certainly did not intend to incite serious violence. Judge Inman also claimed that Lucy failed to offer words of comfort to the Southport victims although she specifically said in her notorious tweet, 'I feel physically sick knowing what these families will now have to endure'. There spoke a mother who had lost her own beloved child and was aware, to her infinite sorrow, that you never get over it. The sentence Lucy Connolly received for a post on social media – 31 months – was greeted with general disbelief in legal circles. 'Sickening', 'outrageous', 'a normally reliable judge was wildly out', are a few of the printable comments. Although Lucy was given 25 per cent off for her guilty plea, the judge paid remarkably little heed to personal and general mitigations: Lucy Connolly was a first-time offender, a person of good character, a mother of a 12-year-old child, a carer for a husband with a serious blood disease; she suffered acute anxiety and was on medication as a result of huge personal trauma. Her sentence is even more mind-boggling when you consider that Ricky Jones, then a Labour councillor (now suspended), was charged with encouraging violent disorder around the same time as Lucy Connolly. Footage of an 'anti-fascist' rally went viral showing Cllr Jones spew bile at 'disgusting Nazi fascists' saying, 'We need to cut their throats and get rid of them'. The former trade union official was remanded in custody until the autumn when he was granted bail and in January his trial was put back until August – a full year since his alleged offence took place. Maybe threats from Left-wing men are viewed as harmless rhetorical devices, unlike tweets from Right-wing women? Hard not to agree with Lucy Connolly: whatever she said, in two-tier Kier's justice system they were out to hammer her. 'I daren't tell Lucy they've given Ricky Jones bail,' Ray told me this week. 'It would kill her, the injustice of it. But Lucy was the perfect message for Starmer after Southport, wasn't she? If they could do that to a nice, middle-class lady like her, imagine what they could do to you.' After she got that deafening two-and-a-half year jail sentence, Lucy messaged her husband and daughter: 'Please don't live on chicken nuggets and Haribos.' As Mrs Connolly arrived at Peterborough jail – 'The most petrified person I've ever seen arrive here,' said one prison officer – a doctor, the father of one of the 'scrumptious' little girls Lucy looked after, was on his way to the immigration office to submit his citizenship application. Among his documents, there was a reference from the Kindest British Person his family knew. As on so many occasions, Lucy Connolly, poster girl for racism and designated scapegoat, had done everything she could to help. What kind of racist does that? As Lucy's tearful mother said to me, 'It would be hilarious, Allison, if it wasn't so horrifying'. Despite her fears, Lucy Connolly settled in well to prison life. Although there was initially a bit of suspicion – 'You're posh, you're an MP's wife' – she says she 'met some amazing ladies and girls, they really looked out for me'. Among her fellow jailmates were drug dealers, thieves and murderers like the wonderfully named Patio Sue, who was 'remorseful' for burying both her parents in the back garden. When the other inmates questioned Lucy about her crime – 'What you in for?' – and she explained it was a post on social media, 'they cracked up'. It is the correct reaction, I think. 'Lucy got on great with some of the most difficult prisoners,' says Ray in his Midlands accent with its distinctive soft, hammocky vowels. 'There was this strong, scary, very attractive, powerful Jamaican girl and she was really kicking off with the prison officers, and they didn't know what to do, and Lucy went over, sort of grabbed her and gave her a big cuddle. The officers said, 'What's wrong with her?', and Lucy said, 'She wants her Mum'.' The childminder had found her niche as a mother hen to some very damaged and vulnerable young women. 'They sat in Lucy's cell for hours, chatting and setting the world to rights,' Ray says proudly. 'Lucy's asking me to send extra money in 'cause there's homeless girls in there and they've got no financial support from outside.' We are talking at the kitchen table in the Connollys' 1930s semi with bow-fronted windows in a placid Northampton suburb. Harley the dog, who misses Lucy terribly ('he goes nuts running to the front door when I've got Lucy on speakerphone from prison') won't leave my side. Through the French doors onto the back garden, I can see the Wendy House and other toys that Lucy's small charges used to play with, mementoes of a happier time. On the shelf behind us, there are two 'Free Lucy Connolly' mugs, a gift from a police officer friend whom Ray was worried wouldn't talk to him after Lucy's arrest. 'He said, don't worry, Ray, lots of the lads down the stations are right behind you. They think it's mad what's happened to Lucy.' On the way in, I admired a pretty Easter wreath of pastel flowers and eggs tied to the front door. Given everything he's dealing with, I tell Ray I'm amazed he remembered to put that up. 'I want things to keep as normal as possible,' he says. 'So Holly doesn't think too much has changed with her Mummy away.' He apologises for the bags of balls and other golf paraphernalia in the entrance porch (Ray is a local golf champ who met his future wife, seventeen years his junior, in the clubhouse). 'Lucy won't be pleased to see all this stuff when she gets home,' he laughs. At that point, Holly comes into the kitchen to make a cup of tea and there is some good-natured banter with her dad. When I ask, 'Is he taking good care of you?' she laughs and says, 'I do all the cooking'. Although she looks radiant with health, Holly was recently suspended from school after a deterioration in her behaviour, which is clearly linked to Lucy's absence. 'I do my best,' says Ray. 'But she tells me to 'go away, Dad'. She needs her mum.' Like her mother, Holly is not afraid to speak out when she thinks someone has done something unfair. 'But that's a teacher!' her father protests in vain. On the phone, Holly's grandmother, Heather*, tells me her daughter Lucy is very house proud and fastidious. 'She got the A levels, but she didn't want to go to uni because she didn't like the thought of living in a shared house with 20 messy people. Now she's living in a prison house with 20 people – she can sort of see the funny side!' Heather says Lucy insisted Ray got out the Emma Bridgewater Christmas crockery, 'and she'll be insisting he gets out the Emma Bridgewater Easter stuff – he'd better!' Whenever Lucy is 'spiralling' because of her anxiety, she just gets fixated on an issue – on something in the world she thinks is unjust, says Heather. 'And I'll say to her, 'No point getting yourself in a tizz about that, love.'' But injustice has always been a big thing for her eldest daughter, the one who always looked after the waifs and strays at school. 'She gets sick and starts shaking, her brain doesn't work – like when she wrote that awful tweet.' (Heather thinks Lucy's decision to plead guilty arose out of her anxiety to get back to Holly as quickly as possible. She thought she'd be home by Christmas and that she'd get an 'HDC' (home detention curfew), or 'Tag' – a home detention curfew, as part of which the prisoner wears an electronic tag). 'Because Harry died, she thinks something terrible will happen to Holly, and you can't tell her different.' Heather says she felt 'ashamed' initially when she found out what her eldest daughter had done – 'Can't defend it, it was horrible what she said, but the punishment is out of all proportion' – but she has since been a staunch maternal ally, badgering the Ministry of Justice to find out why Lucy is being denied the home leave that is granted to prisoners who have committed far graver crimes. 'Lucy's probation officer said she didn't belong in jail.' She pauses, hearing what she just said. 'Imagine my Lucy having a probation officer – it's surreal. 'We've been through worse,' Lucy's mum says suddenly. And, then, at the thought of her dead grandson, I hear her start to cry. Back in the Connolly kitchen, Ray is telling me about his wife's struggle to get the home leave to which she has been entitled since November. The injustice system had not put Lucy through enough by incarcerating her for longer than many paedophiles, or so it would seem. At Peterborough, Lucy's probation officer, a man with 18 years experience, told Lucy: 'We used to have the best justice system in the world – not any longer.' The probation officer fought for Lucy, Ray says. In a video call, the external probation officer said they were astonished at the refusal of applications for ROTL – which are supposed to be part of the rehabilitation process. Lucy claims that the deputy governor told the probation officer that there was 'no way' Lucy would get let out with a tag 'because of press and public perception'. Lucy lodged a formal complaint about the ROTL refusal. The response from officials was that it was due to her risk assessment not being completed – which was contrary to what Lucy had been led to believe. But Lucy knew she was entitled to ROTL. 'I've read every single case about requirements for ROTL,' she writes. 'Are you low risk to the community? Yes, I am. Are you the primary carer for your child? Yes. If you are, you can apply for childcare ROTL.' To add insult to injury, two of Lucy's fellow prisoners who applied at the same time were granted home detention curfews. Both girls had been presumed unsuitable due to their charges of death by dangerous driving. Both girl had direct victims. 'I did not,' Lucy scrawls furiously, 'yet my crime was apparently worse than the death of someone'. In frustration, and feeling the hierarchy at Peterborough were against her, although she loved the prison officers, Lucy requested and got a transfer to an open prison in Staffordshire, where she hoped to find a more sympathetic governor. Ray thrusts a sheaf of papers at me; they are written in biro in Lucy's neat hand. Page after tragic, futile page of carefully researched reasons why she should be let out to see her daughter and her husband, who is doing a brilliant job of holding the fort, but is not sleeping from the worry of it all. 'I've aged ten years,' Ray says, shards of blue eyes flashing whether with defiance or defeat I cannot tell. As we sit together, Harley snuffling beside us, I read aloud from one of Lucy's recent appeals: 'You state that your decision is based on my current circumstances and not the circumstances surrounding my offence. However, I feel you have completely missed my point in my original appeal. The situation is putting additional stress on my husband and a detriment to his health. He doesn't just have a cold he has bone marrow failure… On top of this, since submitting my original appeal my daughter has been suspended from school which is totally out of character. The trauma of her mummy being away from her will affect her for years to come. 'You are not taking any of this into consideration… as the whole system is corrupt. You also state it's impossible to give definitive guidance on what constitutes 'exceptional circumstances' but in the next sentence you write that I do not currently constitute exceptional circumstances. The two contradict one another. You need to give me an example of an exceptional reason. I believe you are just making excuses and your strings are being pulled by someone from outside the prison service. You state the prison has to comply with the court but the LAW actually states I AM ELIGIBLE for Tag but presumed unsuitable. Please explain who is presuming I am unsuitable and for what reason?' On and on, she goes, like a moth batting furiously against the light, concluding desperately, 'While you are playing politics, my 12-year-old is suffering and my husband's health continues to deteriorate. I will emphasise again, the LAW states I am eligible for Tag'. So, this is a big question, I say to Ray Connolly, but do you think your wife is a kind of political prisoner? Ray pats Harley's head and takes a swallow of tea before replying, 'I think they want to use her as an example. Political? Maybe it could be deemed to be that way, but I think they like the idea of Lucy still being in prison just to send out a clear warning to people: 'You really need to watch what you say because, look! The consequences are going to be quite horrendous for you if you don't.' 'Put it this way, Allison, I think it certainly suits the narrative of the Government to have Lucy as their poster girl for racism, which is ridiculous when you know Lucy.' At one level, this is a terrible tragedy for a family that knows tragedy too well, but pull the camera back and we see the wider picture of free speech and where its limits lie. That's why Lucy's latest appeal is being funded by the Free Speech Union. 'Why are people more concerned by my political views than by the actual murder of three little girls?' demanded Lucy in one of her final tweets. She was right about the rush to deflection after the heinous Southport massacre. It seems to me the state knows that uncontrolled immigration has unleashed forces which it has no idea how to contain – namely that the suffering of white girls is a secondary consideration compared to avoiding the stirring up of racial hatred. Diversity is not always a strength, sometimes it's a scary problem. The sticking-plaster solution is to silence those who express their distress, or turn them into witches. So successful was the campaign to demonise Lucy Connolly that, until now, it has been taboo to suggest that her imprisonment is appalling. Many who heard about her draconian sentence may have thought, 'She must have deserved it'. Well, I hope I have offered some proof that is wrong, and that 'Conservative councillor's racist wife' was a handy label to demonise a good person who made a dreadful mistake. Lucy is a victim of two-tier justice. What has happened to her shames a free country, I think. It upsets everyone who knows her and loves her, and those who know her do love her. On May 15, Lucy Connolly's case will be heard by the Court of Appeal. Pray for her. Ray's words come back to me again: 'Lucy basically had to admit she was the person she was the opposite of.' May the real Lucy walk free. *Some names have been changed Broaden your horizons with award-winning British journalism. Try The Telegraph free for 1 month with unlimited access to our award-winning website, exclusive app, money-saving offers and more.
Yahoo
01-04-2025
- Yahoo
'Hands-on' prison governor denies fling with inmate
A prison governor accused of being in a relationship with a gang boss inmate said she had always been a "hands-on" person, but denied any wrongdoing. Kerri Pegg, 42, was allegedly gifted a £12,000 Mercedes car by Anthony Saunderson, who used the name Jesse Pinkman, a meth dealer in the TV show Breaking Bad, during secret communications with other criminals. Ms Pegg had been a "rising star" in the Prison Service, climbing the career ladder from graduate entrant to prison governor in six years, Preston Crown Court was told. But while a governor at HMP Kirkham, she became too close to Saunderson, signing off his temporary release without proper authority, it is alleged. The defendant denies two counts of misconduct in a public office, one by having a relationship with Saunderson and the second by failing to disclose county court judgments (CCJ) about personal debts. She also denies one count of possessing criminal property, the Mercedes car, from Saunderson. Giving evidence earlier, Ms Pegg said she joined the Prison Service after eight years as a probation officer because she liked working with people and "wanted to make a difference". The jury heard that in 2018, when she was working at HMP Liverpool, she was confronted by its then governor Robert Durgan after the Prison Service had been made aware of three CCJs against her, which is against the rules for staff as it may make them vulnerable to financial inducements. Ms Pegg told the court she did not realise that not declaring a CCJ was breaking the rules. She said: "I was mortified, I was embarrassed, I started crying. But he was really supportive and kind." Ms Pegg said she was told no further action needed to be taken because the CCJs had at that point been declared. The jury heard she moved to HMP Kirkham in April 2018 as a governor, where she said there were "cultural issues". Saunderson was coming to the end of a 10-year sentence for drugs offences when Ms Pegg was appointed. She told the jury her "style" was always to have an "open-door policy" and lots of contact with prisoners. "I have always been a hands-on person, hands-on manager, I like contact with people," she said. "They really seemed to appreciate it, they really appreciated someone willing to listen to them. They felt they had been ignored by other staff." Ms Pegg admitted that she had signed off on Release on Temporary Licence (ROTL) form for Saunderson in October 2018, which should only have been signed off by another official, the acting duty governor. But she said she had done this before if paperwork was late and it was not unusual. Andrew Alty, defending, asked: "Did you sign that ROTL because of some form of special relationship with Anthony Saunderson?" "No," replied Ms Pegg. Earlier in the trial, the prosecution said that after Saunderson had served his sentence detectives found size 10 Hugo Boss flip flops and a toothbrush, both with his DNA on, at Ms Pegg's home in Orrell, Wigan. She is alleged to have been gifted the black Mercedes coupe after Saunderson paid for it by offering 34kgs (75lb) of amphetamines, jurors heard. The jury were told Saunderson was released from prison in May 2019, and in early 2020 was using an Encrochat encrypted mobile phone, used by serious criminals. When the system was cracked by law enforcement agencies it showed Saunderson was using the handle or pseudonym Jesse Pinkman, the name of a drug-dealing character in the critically acclaimed Breaking Bad crime drama series. He has since been convicted for large-scale drug-trafficking and is back in prison. Other messages on Saunderson's Encrochat phone also revealed the "ongoing nature" of his relationship with Ms Pegg, the prosecution has claimed. Ms Pegg denies any wrongdoing. The trial continues. Listen to the best of BBC Radio Merseyside on BBC Sounds and follow BBC Merseyside on Facebook, X, and Instagram, and watch BBC North West Tonight on BBC iPlayer. Prison governor's 'fling with Breaking Bad dealer' Prison governor 'had fling with drug dealer inmate'
Telegraph
01-04-2025
- Telegraph
I'm a hands-on boss, says prison governor ‘who had affair with drug dealer'
Giving evidence from the witness box in her own defence, Ms Pegg said she joined the Prison Service after working for the Probation Service for eight years, because she liked working with people and wanted to 'make a difference'. She told jurors she currently works for The Brick, a poverty and homeless charity in Wigan, who she had told about her court case and some people from the charity were attending court. While working at HMP Liverpool in March 2018, she told the jury she was called to a meeting with Robert Durgan, the main governor, after the Prison Service found out she had three CCJs against her, which is against the rules for staff as it may make them vulnerable to financial inducements. Ms Pegg said she did not realise that not declaring or having a CCJ was breaking the rules. She said: 'I was mortified, I was embarrassed, I started crying. But he was really supportive and kind.' Andrew Alty, defending, asked if Mr Durgan told her she should have reported her CCJs and this amounted to misconduct in a public office. Ms Pegg replied: 'No. He said they were now 'known'. Declared. And there was no further disciplinary action to take. He just gave me advice.' The defendant said staff at HMP Liverpool were also aware she had had a breast enhancement procedure, and was put on restricted duties for a time to recover. Ms Pegg said when she moved to HMP Kirkham in April 2018 as a governor, where Saunderson was coming to the end of a 10-year sentence for drugs offences, there were 'cultural issues'. 'Open-door policy' Ms Pegg said her 'style' was always to have and 'open-door policy' and lots of contact with prisoners in the jail. 'I have always been a hands-on person, hands-on manager, I like contact with people,' she said. 'They really seemed to appreciate it, they really appreciated someone willing to listen to them. They felt they had been ignored by other staff.' Ms Pegg admitted that she had signed off on Release on Temporary Licence (ROTL) form, for Saunderson in October 2018, which should only have been signed off by another official, the acting duty governor. But Ms Pegg said she had done this before if paperwork was late and it was not unusual. Mr Alty continued: 'Did you sign that ROTL because of some form of special relationship with Anthony Saunderson?' 'No,' replied Ms Pegg. Earlier the trial heard Saunderson was released from prison in May 2019, and in early 2020 was using an Encrochat encrypted mobile phone, used by serious, organised criminals to send messages and secretly communicate. When the system was cracked by law enforcement agencies it showed Saunderson went by the handle or pseudonym of Jesse Pinkman and was involved in massive drug trafficking. He has since been convicted for those offences. Other messages on the phone also revealed the 'ongoing nature' of his relationship with Ms Pegg, it is alleged. Ms Pegg was arrested at her home on February 11, 2021, and later charged.
