The charismatic trainee teacher with the charming laugh, the one who dotes on his nieces and nephews
The charismatic trainee teacher with the charming laugh, the one who dotes on his nieces and nephews, the one who makes you feel like the only person in the world. You fall head over heels. Then, without warning, the mask slips and the darkness emerges—jealous rages that leave you pinned to the floor screaming that you’re fat and ugly, a gold chain ripped from your neck with such force it leaves a scar, a phone hurled at your head, your watch smashed into pieces and thrown into a canal after you innocently wore a gift from your ex. And worse still, the nights when he fakes a suicide attempt, lying in the road to stop you driving away, or crawls through a neighbour’s fence at 2am after an argument, smashing things and declaring no one else will ever have you.
That was the nightmare for Adam, who asked The Sun to protect his identity. For two years he dated Jamie Varley at Manchester Metropolitan University between 2011 and 2013. What started as a whirlwind romance of horror films, beach trips, candlelit dinners and shared laughter quickly became a living hell of control, humiliation and fear. Adam’s friends warned him the relationship was too intense, that one day Varley would snap. He laughed it off. In hindsight, he says, he wishes he had listened. Because Jamie Varley, now 37, is not just a controlling boyfriend. He is the man who adopted a baby boy, Preston Davey, at just nine months old—and then systematically tortured, sexually abused and murdered that innocent child in Blackpool just four months later.
The story of Preston Davey, who died at 13 months old after suffering 40 separate injuries consistent with sexual abuse, has shocked the nation. In June 2026 Varley was handed a whole life order—the rarest and most severe sentence in the UK—telling him he will spend the rest of his life behind bars for the murder and multiple sexual offences. His partner, John McGowan-Fazakerley, 32, received 25 years for allowing the death and taking part in the abuse. But Adam’s pain runs deeper. He dated the man before any of this horror came to light. He lived the Jekyll-and-Hyde personality. And now he wonders: if he had blown the whistle back then, would Preston still be alive?
Preston was born in June 2022 to Sarah Davey, then just 14, who had been imprisoned as a teenager for the 1998 murder of a 71-year-old woman. Five days after his birth, the baby was taken into care by Oldham Council. At nine months old he was placed with Varley and McGowan-Fazakerley, who had completed an Adoption Now training programme and were deemed suitable adopters. On April 3, 2023, the 13-month-old was handed over to the pair in Blackpool. What followed was four months of hell that no court could have predicted.
On July 27, 2023, Preston was rushed to Blackpool Victoria Hospital in cardiac arrest. Varley told doctors he had fallen from his bath seat while left alone for a few minutes. The baby was in his arms when paramedics arrived. He died at 7.18pm after 50 minutes of failed resuscitation. The official cause? Accidental drowning. The truth? A post-mortem revealed 40 different non-accidental injuries—bruises, lacerations, internal trauma to his head, face, legs, arms, bottom and pelvic organs—consistent with forcible penetration and prolonged sexual abuse. Varley later admitted to a colleague he had “dark thoughts” of suffocating or drowning the child. He even texted his sister that the baby was “dead meat” after a sleepless night.
McGowan-Fazakerley, who was in the home that day, joined Varley in a sickening sex attack on the baby four days earlier, on July 24, when Preston slumped over the bars of his cot. Both men turned a blind eye to the growing abuse. The judge described the couple’s crimes as shocking the nation. Varley was convicted of murder, causing grievous bodily harm, multiple counts of sexual assault and cruelty, and making, taking and distributing indecent images of Preston. McGowan-Fazakerley was convicted of causing or allowing the death, child cruelty and sexual assault.
But the real horror for Adam began in January 2011. He met Varley online and agreed to a drink. The trainee textiles teacher was “charismatic, funny, charming,” always polite and popular. Adam’s family adored him. He would do anything for anyone. On his best days Varley was the life of the party. But the moment things didn’t go his way, the “worst side” emerged—relentlessly argumentative and hostile.
One evening after an exam, Adam told Varley he was too tired to drive to Blackpool and would visit the next day. Varley drove drunk from the city, climbed over a neighbour’s fence in Manchester’s Hulme area and smashed his way into Adam’s flat. The argument exploded. Varley pinned Adam against the bed, screaming that he had put on weight and was “fat and ugly,” then snarled: “You might as well stay with me. Don’t ever leave me because no one else is going to have you.”
Friends and housemates were terrified. Adam’s sister had dinner with them once and Varley stormed out when they tried to persuade him to eat a prawn he disliked. At his parents’ house he told them Adam was a “f*ing ct” before storming to bed. When Adam followed, Varley lay on the floor surrounded by pills, feigning a suicide attempt. Adam shouted at him to get up—the pills were on the floor, not inside him. Varley jumped up screaming before sleeping in another room.
Another row erupted at a family wedding when Varley saw Adam dance with his mother Karen. The face of thunder lasted until they reached the hotel room. Varley exploded, bouncing a Blackberry phone off Adam’s forehead and ripping a metal chain from his neck. The scar from that incident still exists to this day.
In Manchester’s gay area, a former partner of Adam’s—still wearing a watch Adam had gifted him—approached. Varley’s mood shifted instantly. He demanded to see the watch, took it from Adam, threw it to the ground, stamped on it until the glass shattered, then hurled it into the canal. The next morning he apologised, claiming the gift from Adam’s ex justified the rage.
Varley even convinced Adam to see a doctor, blaming his “mental health” for the constant arguments. Adam’s family saw the flamboyant, fun-loving side first. They never suspected the controlling monster underneath.
When the couple moved apart in third year—both doing work placements—Varley created fake Facebook profiles in the area where Adam was living. He flirted through them, trying to test Adam’s loyalty. Messages from “friends” asking about Adam arrived. It felt “stalky and creepy.”
Adam broke it off for good in November 2013. He drove to Blackpool to tell Varley in person. Varley lay in the road for 30 minutes, screaming and refusing to let Adam reverse the car until he was forced back inside and calmed down. After that, Adam had no contact.
Then the news broke: Varley had been charged with Preston’s murder. Adam read the reports and felt sick. He followed the trial through media coverage, watching footage of Varley lying on the floor screaming after being told the baby had died, then appearing cold and calculated in police interviews. “You see two sides of him there and that’s very much how he was,” Adam says. “Jamie’s problem has always been that he thinks he is a better actor than everyone else does.”
The day the full charges were read officially, Adam just wanted to curl up and die. He had spent two years with this man. He had forgiven apologies, excused behaviour, stayed because of manipulation. Now he realises: if he had reported the rages, the fake suicides, the assaults to police or social services at the time, would Varley have had a record? Would that have stopped him from being approved as an adoptive parent? Would Preston still be alive today?
“I kind of feel like I should have done something,” Adam told The Sun. “But it’s much easier to think that with hindsight. I was manipulated by him and so were lots of other people and professionals.”
The trial at Preston Crown Court lasted seven weeks. Hundreds of officers investigated. A child safeguarding review into the adoption was paused during the proceedings and will be relaunched by Oldham Council. Preston’s mother Sarah Davey, now in her early 40s, was also in court, her pain a reminder that even babies born to troubled backgrounds deserve protection.
Varley, the former head of year at South Shore Academy in Blackpool, is now serving a whole life sentence in HMP Wakefield. He will never be released. McGowan-Fazakerley, 25, in HMP Preston, has already served his time and will remain on the sex offenders register for life.
The story has exposed cracks in the system. Thousands of people adopt every year without red flags flashing. Professionals were manipulated. Adam’s friends saw the warning signs but he chose to stay. Now he wonders whether his silence allowed a monster to adopt a child and cause the death of an innocent boy.
Domestic abuse does not discriminate. It can affect anyone—men, women, same-sex couples, anyone. One in four women and one in seven men will experience it in their lifetime. Every 30 seconds, police receive a domestic abuse call.
If you or someone you know is in an abusive relationship, remember the signs: emotional control, jealousy that spirals into rage, gaslighting, threats, isolation, physical violence. Call the National Domestic Abuse Helpline on 0808 2000 247 for free, 24 hours a day. Men who are abused can contact Respect Men’s Advice Line on 0808 8010 327 or Mankind on 0182 3334 244. LGBT+ people can ring Galop on 0800 999 5428. And if you are in immediate danger, call 999.
Adam now lives with the trauma of what could have been. He saw the trial. He saw the man he dated. And he knows the system failed Preston—and potentially thousands of other children who might have been adopted by monsters like Jamie Varley.
The questions haunt him: Could I have stopped this? Should I have? The street where Varley lived in Blackpool, the house he bought with McGowan-Fazakerley for £449,995 in 2023, even the adoption home—they are all gone now. But the memory of the man he once loved, the one who smiled for the camera in university photos, the one who loved his family… that memory will never fade.
Preston Davey was just a baby. He deserved better than four months of hell before dying in a hospital. Jamie Varley thought he could play everyone. He thought he was the better actor. In the end, the jury, the judge and the nation saw the truth.
Adam has lived with regret for over a decade. Now, with the full story out, he hopes his courage will help someone else before it’s too late. He hopes the warning signs of control, rage and manipulation are spotted earlier. He hopes no other child pays the ultimate price for a failed relationship that began with a smile and ended in a whole life sentence.
Because behind every adoption form, every “I’d do anything for anyone,” there can be a monster wearing the perfect disguise. And sometimes, only a heartbroken ex who stayed too long realises the danger too late.
The streets of Manchester, Blackpool and beyond will never be the same after Preston’s murder. Neither will the adoption process. And the man who walked Adam down the aisle of his life will spend the rest of his days in a cage he can never escape—while the questions Adam carries remain unanswered.
Preston is gone. But the story of Jamie Varley’s dark side will keep shining a light on every relationship that feels too good to be true. Because in the end, love does not excuse evil. And no one should ever have to wonder, “What if I had spoken up?” before it was too late.