He Thrived In Foster Care Until He Was Adopted—Then Came Bruises, Hospital Visits, And A Final Shocking Video That Changed Everything Forever 💔
A Baby Boy Taken in by Kind Strangers – Then Left to Die in Silence: The Heartbreaking Tragedy of Preston Davey and the System That Failed Him
Picture this: a tiny infant, just a few weeks old, being placed into the arms of a couple who had waited years for the chance to build the perfect family. For them, it was a dream come true – a fresh start, a chance to prove they could be loving parents. For Preston Davey, the little boy who would become known to everyone as Elijah, it was the beginning of the end. Four months later, on 27 July 2023, he was carried into Blackpool Victoria Hospital, barely breathing, with bruises covering his body and his tongue protruding from his mouth. He was pronounced dead at 7:20pm after a desperate 50-minute resuscitation. A 13-month-old baby who had known nothing but cruelty – and whose death was ruled murder. Acute upper airway obstruction, deliberately caused. Not drowning. Not an accident. Murder.
This is the story of Preston Elijah Davey, born on 16 June 2022 in Wythenshawe Hospital, south Manchester. He lived for just 13 months, but those months were packed with pain, secrets, and a series of missed warnings that no parent – no matter how innocent – should ever face. His birth mother, Sarah Davey, was 14 when she gave birth to him while serving a long sentence for a horrific crime. His father, Gary Nolan, was left to grieve alone as the system took his son away. Then came Jamie Varley, a 37-year-old former secondary school teacher from Blackpool, and his partner John McGowan-Fazakerley, 32, a finance sales manager. They were approved for adoption in January 2023. On 4 April 2023, just nine months after Preston had been placed with foster parents, he was handed over to them. For four months, this baby boy – bubbly, healthy, and full of life in the foster home – was subjected to physical abuse, sexual abuse, emotional torment, and hidden sexual images. He was taken to hospital three times. Social workers visited. Friends noticed. And still, no one stepped in.
The raw horror of it all – the 40 non-accidental injuries, the sexual assaults that continued right up to the final moments, the video of Preston in “extreme respiratory distress” recorded just hours before his death – has shaken Britain to its core. In June 2026, Varley was convicted of murder and dozens of other offences and given a whole-life order. McGowan-Fazakerley was jailed for 25 years. But the questions that linger are far more dangerous: How did this happen? Why did the system that was supposed to protect him fail so catastrophically? Could Preston have been saved? This isn’t just a headline about one tragic death. It’s a chilling indictment of adoption failures, safeguarding breakdowns, and the devastating human cost when we let vulnerable children fall through the cracks.
Let’s walk through the timeline of Preston’s short life, moment by devastating moment, because every single day tells a story of a boy who deserved safety, love, and protection – and received something far darker instead.
It started on 16 June 2022. Preston was born four weeks early, weighing just 5lb 7oz at Wythenshawe Hospital. His teenage mother, Sarah Davey, had been in and out of prison for years. The baby was taken into emergency care just five days later, on 21 June, under an interim care order by Oldham Council. For the first nine months of his life, Preston thrived in foster care. Foster carers Sandra and Paul Cooper described him as a happy, bubbly infant. Health visitors called him normal. Social workers visited regularly and felt he was safe and well-cared for. The boy they knew as Elijah was thriving – exactly what anyone would want for a child they’d just been handed the chance to love.
But the dream was about to shatter.
By early 2023, Varley and McGowan-Fazakerley had been approved for adoption. On 13 February 2023 they met Preston for the first time at the foster home. On 4 April 2023 he was formally placed with them. The very next day, 6 April, Varley texted his sister, a baby sleep trainer, with chilling words: “He’s dead meat today. Didn’t sleep last night after 11.30. Up every one and a half hours.” A teenage sleep trainer might have wondered what that meant, but no one else did.
The first signs of trouble came in mid-April. Varley began recording videos on his phone of Preston. By 20 and 25 April, forensic analysis of those devices revealed physical bruising to the baby’s head – evidence that would later be used in court. The couple claimed they were “dark thoughts” about parenting. But those thoughts were clearly turning darker.
Then came the hospital visits that should have raised alarms.
On 11 May 2023, Varley made a 999 call at 9:43pm. He later said he hung up after just four seconds and heard his partner say “put it down.” A few hours later, at 10:16pm, McGowan-Fazakerley rang the non-emergency 111 line claiming breathing and head-control issues. Two callback calls were ignored. The following day’s routine health visitor check passed without comment. No one seemed concerned.
Two weeks later, on 25 May, Varley rushed Preston to Blackpool Victoria Hospital, claiming a seizure and breathing difficulties. Nursing staff noticed bruising to the baby’s head. Doctors later described the injuries as “unexplained,” inconsistent with the story they were told. A medical report stated they didn’t match what the couple claimed happened. Yet nothing was done beyond basic treatment. The safeguarding team evaluated the infant but didn’t raise red flags. The boy was discharged.
Fast-forward to 6 July 2023. Another hospital visit. This time Preston had a spiral fracture to his elbow. Varley told staff he’d been holding the baby’s hands in the cot; when he let go, Preston twizzled backwards. Doctors recorded the injury as a possible non-accidental fracture. A cast was applied. The couple’s story was inconsistent with what friends and medical staff heard. But again, no immediate alarm was raised that would have changed everything.
Meanwhile, the abuse continued behind closed doors.
Forensic evidence from Varley’s phone showed sexual images and videos of Preston. McGowan-Fazakerley faced charges of sexual assault. The couple claimed they loved the boy – but the medical evidence told a different story. By July, Preston had suffered at least 30 external bruises, plus internal injuries to his mouth, throat, anus, bowel, and bladder. The forensic pathologist later concluded the injuries were consistent with forcible penetration and repeated sexual abuse.
On 27 July 2023, the final nightmare unfolded while McGowan-Fazakerley was at work. At 4:45pm, Varley was alone with Preston. He filmed a 35-second video of the baby in “extreme respiratory distress,” taking an “agonal gasp.” His tongue was protruding, lips blue. Varley claimed he found the child submerged in the bath after leaving him for two or three minutes. But the post-mortem examination – carried out by Home Office pathologist Dr Alison Armour – ruled out drowning. Preston’s hair was dry. The bathtub at home was empty. The cause of death was acute upper airway obstruction, deliberately caused by smothering or an object placed in his mouth. Varley had recorded the moment he was killing his own son.
At 6:24pm the couple rushed Preston to Blackpool Victoria Hospital. He was unconscious, in cardiac arrest. Paramedics, nurses, and doctors fought for nearly an hour. At 7:18pm he was pronounced dead.
The system had seen the bruises, the fractures, the breathing difficulties, the ignored 999 calls, the 111 reports. Yet on the day Preston died, no one had called for an urgent review or made a safeguarding referral that would have saved him. Three hospital visits. Regular social worker contact. Foster carers, teachers (Varley himself had been a secondary school teacher), and neighbours who had seen the couple with the baby – none of them acted decisively.
In the aftermath, Preston’s biological mother Sarah Davey, now 42, described living with “unimaginable pain” wondering what her son endured in his final months. His biological father Gary Nolan was left shattered. A vigil attended by 150 people from across the UK, including the biological parents, saw Blackpool Tower lit up in blue. Preston’s grandmother had wanted to raise him herself but couldn’t because of her own cancer.
The couple were arrested. In April 2026, Varley and McGowan-Fazakerley went on trial at Preston Crown Court. The prosecution laid out a catalogue of horror: 40 injuries, sexual assaults, indecent images of a baby, deliberate acts that caused death. Varley denied it all, claiming accidents and misunderstandings. McGowan-Fazakerley said he trusted his partner and had no knowledge of the abuse. The jury didn’t buy it.
On 15 June 2026, the verdicts came in. Jamie Varley, 37, was found guilty of murder, two counts of assault by penetration, five counts of cruelty to a child, grievous bodily harm, sexual assault of a child under 13, and 13 counts of taking indecent photos or videos of a child, plus one count of distributing an indecent photo. He was sentenced to a whole-life order – life without parole, ever. John McGowan-Fazakerley, 32, was convicted of allowing the death of a child, two counts of child cruelty, and one count of sexual assault of a child under 13. He received 25 years.
The sentences reflect the brutality. But the real outrage is the system that let this happen.
Blackpool South MP Chris Webb and Fylde MP Andrew Snowden have called for a full public inquiry into the adoption process and safeguarding failures involving Oldham Council and Blackpool Victoria Hospital. Campaigners are demanding a national review of how babies move from care to adoption – and why obvious red flags were ignored. The coroner has confirmed a full inquest is “highly likely” in 2027, possibly clashing with the anniversary date. The government has pledged to examine the roles of the agencies involved.
This isn’t just about Preston. It’s about every child who slips through the net. Adoption can be beautiful – a way to give loving homes to children who have already suffered enough. But when the system is under-resourced, rushed, or too trusting, monsters can slip through. Varley was a teacher; McGowan-Fazakerley ran in finance. They presented the perfect picture of stability. Social workers saw a happy baby. No one asked the tough questions. No one saw the videos. No one connected the bruises to the ignored calls.
Preston was left at the mercy of two men who had chosen him – and paid with his life. The final video he never got to see was the most tragic footage of all: a baby fighting for breath, recording the moment the man he called dad stopped fighting for him.
Today, Preston’s legacy is a demand for change. His biological family and campaigners want that inquiry not just to remember him, but to stop it happening again. Children like Preston deserve better – faster responses, stricter oversight, real accountability. They deserve to be seen, heard, and protected the moment a single alarm bell rings.
The seas didn’t take Preston; his own adoptive parents did. The hospital didn’t fail him – it tried, and failed to connect the dots. But the greatest failure was the one that allowed this nightmare to unfold in the first place.
Preston Davey was born too soon, left too long, and taken too far. A boy who should have grown up loved and safe. Instead, he died with a smile on his face – a smile that will never be seen again. The world watched. The system failed. And in the silence that followed, a single baby’s life became a warning no one should ever have to learn.
His story is far from over. The inquest. The inquiry. The outrage. But one thing is certain: Preston deserved better than four months of hell. He deserved a future. He deserved to live. And in that, we all failed him.
This tragedy should haunt us all. Because when the system lets monsters into the homes meant for angels, it doesn’t just hurt one family – it breaks the promise we make to every child in our care. Preston’s death wasn’t an accident. It was preventable. And now, as the nation grieves and calls for answers, the question remains: how many more children must die before we finally get it right?
