The pain of losing a child is unimaginable, but for Coral Jones, the agony stretches far beyond grief—it’s compounded by the cruel reality that her five-year-old daughter, April, remains “missing in the eyes of the law” more than 14 years after her brutal murder. In a poignant and powerful intervention that has reignited national debate, Coral has spoken out about her enduring dream: to one day lay April to rest properly in a grave with a body to mourn. Her words, delivered through Plaid Cymru MS Cefin Campbell during a Senedd debate on January 28, 2026, were simple yet devastating: “I still want to put April to rest properly.”

This latest expression of heartbreak comes amid fresh calls for legal reform to create a specific criminal offence of desecrating a body—a change Coral passionately supports. The current law, she believes, fails to capture the full horror inflicted not just on April during her short life, but on her remains after death. Mark Bridger, the man convicted of her abduction, sexual assault, murder, and the unlawful disposal of her body, was handed a whole-life sentence in 2013. Yet the offences for which he was convicted, Coral argues, do not reflect the true extent of his depravity, particularly the deliberate destruction and scattering of April’s tiny frame. Only fragments—small pieces of bone confirmed as human skull—were ever recovered, charred in his fireplace and scattered across the Welsh countryside. The rest vanished, denying the family the basic human dignity of a full burial.

April Sue-Lyn Jones was born prematurely on April 4, 2007, spending her first weeks fighting for life in intensive care. Diagnosed later with mild cerebral palsy affecting her left side, she was a bright, determined little girl who loved swimming, playing on her pink bicycle, and spending time with her family in the quiet mid-Wales town of Machynlleth. On October 1, 2012, after a day of swimming lessons and her parents attending a school parents’ evening, April ventured outside around 7 p.m. to play with friends on the Bryn-y-Gog estate. It was a place where children roamed safely, doors stayed unlocked, and community bonds ran deep. No one foresaw the nightmare about to unfold.

At approximately 7:15 p.m., a grey Land Rover Freelander pulled up. A local man, Mark Bridger, then 46, engaged April in conversation. Witnesses saw her climb into the vehicle willingly—perhaps trusting the familiar face from the area. That was the last confirmed sighting of April alive. Within minutes, panic gripped the Jones household. Coral raised the alarm, and what followed became the largest missing persons search in British policing history. Thousands of volunteers, police officers, mountain rescue teams, helicopters, sniffer dogs, and divers scoured rivers, forests, and hillsides. Pink ribbons—April’s favorite color—fluttered from every lamppost, a symbol of desperate hope. Prime Minister David Cameron appealed for information, and the nation watched in collective anguish.

Hope evaporated brutally. On October 6, Bridger was arrested. Forensic evidence at his Ceinws cottage was damning: April’s blood soaked the sofa and bathroom; bone fragments from a child’s skull lay in the ashes of his wood burner; his computer revealed thousands of indecent images of children and searches linked to notorious child murders. Bridger initially claimed he had accidentally struck April with his car while intoxicated, then disposed of her body in panic. But the story crumbled—no vehicle damage, no collision evidence, and eyewitness accounts contradicted him.

The 2013 trial at Mold Crown Court exposed Bridger as a fantasist obsessed with child pornography and violence. Prosecutors described a sexually motivated abduction: Bridger lured April, assaulted her, murdered her to silence her, then dismembered and destroyed her body to evade justice. The jury convicted him unanimously after just four hours. Sentencing him to whole-life imprisonment, Mr Justice Griffith Williams called the crime one of “unimaginable depravity.” Bridger joined an elite, infamous group never to walk free.

For Coral and her then-husband Paul Jones, the verdict offered punishment but no peace. The absence of April’s body turned mourning into perpetual torment. A funeral was held, but the coffin contained only those few bone fragments and personal mementos Coral placed inside herself. “There was no body to lay to rest, no real goodbye,” Cefin Campbell recounted, channeling Coral’s words in the Senedd. Coral avoids the grave entirely, knowing her daughter isn’t truly there. Instead, she tends a special garden at home—a quiet sanctuary where she feels closer to April, planting flowers and reflecting in solitude.

The emotional toll has been relentless. Coral’s health has suffered under the weight of knowing what Bridger did to April’s remains—the burning, the scattering, the erasure. Sleep is disrupted, daily life shadowed by memories, and the mental health impact profound and unending. She lives with the haunting knowledge that her little girl, who should be approaching her late teens, was denied even the dignity of intact remains. Paul, April’s father, battled his own demons until his death in 2025 from encephalitis, a brain disease that eroded his memories yet forced him to relive the horror repeatedly. The family’s fractures—strained relationships, unspoken pain—mirror the invisible wounds left by such crimes.

Coral’s recent statements stem from a Senedd motion, proposed by Cefin Campbell, unanimously supported across parties. It urges the Welsh Government to collaborate with the UK Government on legislating a new offence of body desecration. Campbell highlighted how existing laws leave families’ suffering “unrecognised and unnamed.” He drew parallels to other cases, like that of Mike O’Leary, whose killer concealed his body so thoroughly that only 6cm of lower intestine was recovered. Mike’s sister Lesley described the ongoing trauma: disrupted sleep, constant anxiety, overshadowed days, and profound mental health struggles. Helen McCourt’s 1988 disappearance—her body never found—inspired Helen’s Law, requiring parole boards to consider whether killers have disclosed remains locations. Coral backs extending such protections and reforming burial and sentencing laws.

In the broader context, Coral’s plea underscores systemic gaps. While Bridger will die in prison, future cases could see offenders released without full accountability for desecration. A new offence would name the cruelty, validate families’ pain, and deter similar acts. The debate’s outcome—Welsh Government minister Julie James committing to liaise with Westminster—offers a glimmer of progress, though change remains slow.

Coral’s voice, after years of quiet endurance, carries immense power. She doesn’t seek vengeance but acknowledgment—the legal recognition that what Bridger did post-murder amplified the horror exponentially. Her dream of a proper resting place for April symbolizes a deeper yearning for closure denied by one man’s evil. In tending her garden, Coral keeps April’s memory alive amid the emptiness. Pink ribbons may have faded from Machynlleth’s streets, but the town’s collective scar—and the nation’s—remains.

This story isn’t just about one family’s tragedy; it’s a stark reminder of vulnerability, the limits of justice, and the human cost when evil destroys not only life but the possibility of peaceful farewell. Coral Jones’s words—”I still want to put April to rest properly”—echo as both lament and rallying cry. They demand we confront uncomfortable truths: that some wounds fester not from loss alone, but from the deliberate denial of dignity in death. As long as bodies remain hidden or destroyed, families like the Joneses will carry an unfinished grief. Reform, if it comes, won’t bring April back—but it might allow her mother, at last, to say a fuller goodbye.

The Welsh valleys still whisper April’s name on quiet evenings. In Coral’s garden, flowers bloom in defiant beauty, a testament to love persisting through unimaginable darkness. Her fight continues—not for retribution, but for the simple, sacred right to bury a child whole.