Three years after Nicola Bulley vanished while walking her dog along the River Wyre, her two young daughters are still asking the same heartbreaking question every single night: “Where’s mummy?”

Now aged 9 and 12, the girls live with their father Paul Ansell in Lancashire, trying to navigate school, friendships, and everyday life while carrying an unimaginable void left by their mother’s disappearance on February 27, 2023. The last time they saw Nicola was that ordinary school morning when she dropped them off with a smile, the final family photo capturing a moment of normal happiness that now feels frozen in time. What followed was a nightmare that gripped the nation — and left two little girls forever changed.

Paul Ansell has spoken openly about the daily emotional toll in a powerful new interview. “The first thing they’d do when they came out of school was run over and say ‘have we found mummy?’” he recalled, his voice heavy with the memory of those agonising early days. Even now, years later, the nights remain the hardest. The girls still ask about their mum before bed, clinging to a hope that refuses to fade completely. One particularly gut-wrenching moment came when the youngest daughter turned to her grandmother Dorothy and said innocently, “Cold, isn’t it, Nanny? I hope mummy’s not cold and hungry.” That single sentence speaks volumes about the innocent confusion and deep love the children still carry for the mother they lost far too soon.

Nicola Bulley, a 45-year-old mortgage adviser and devoted mum, disappeared while walking her springer spaniel Willow in St Michael’s on Wyre, Lancashire. She had been on a work Teams call, her phone still connected and resting on a bench beside the dog’s lead when a member of the public raised the alarm. Paul received the devastating call from the school and immediately knew something was terribly wrong. “That’s not a normal phone call to get,” he said. “She would never have left Willow.” The 23-day search that followed became one of the most intense and widely covered missing person cases in recent British history, drawing in underwater teams, helicopters, and even psychic claims that only added to the family’s pain.

The discovery of Nicola’s body on January 27, 2023, brought a cruel form of closure. The inquest later ruled her death as accidental drowning after she slipped down the riverbank into the icy water. Experts suggested it happened almost instantaneously. Yet for Paul and the girls, the official ruling could never fill the enormous hole Nicola left behind. “I see glimpses of her in our two children,” Paul said softly. “Without her the hole is bigger than you could possibly imagine.”

The impact on the children has been profound and ongoing. At the time of their mother’s disappearance, they were just 6 and 9 years old. They went from a happy, stable family life to suddenly facing a world without their mum. Paul has worked tirelessly to shield them from the worst of the media frenzy and the vicious online abuse that targeted him personally. He revealed receiving hateful direct messages from strangers accusing him of involvement, with comments like “you b******” and “we know what you did.” The harassment left him feeling silenced and powerless. “They don’t know me, they don’t know us, they don’t know Nikki,” he said, the frustration still evident. “You’re literally silenced, and you can’t do anything about it.”

Despite the trauma, Paul has fought to give his daughters as normal a childhood as possible. They continue attending local schools, surrounded by a supportive community in Lancashire. Friends and extended family have rallied around them, helping with school runs, playdates, and the quiet moments when grief surfaces unexpectedly. Nicola’s sister Louise Cunningham and parents Dorothy and Ernest have also remained closely involved, offering the girls the love and stability they desperately need.

Nicola’s family has described her as a fun, loving, and exceptional mother who lived for her children. Her father Ernest paid tribute at the inquest, calling her a “great daughter, sister and mother — we couldn’t ask for any more from her.” Those words now serve as a gentle reminder for the girls of the woman they are growing up without. Paul sees Nicola’s personality shining through in small ways — a laugh, a gesture, a spark of her spirit in their eyes. Yet every milestone — birthdays, school events, Christmas mornings — carries the heavy weight of her absence.

The family has largely stepped back from the intense media spotlight that once consumed their lives, choosing privacy to protect the girls. Paul did appear in a BBC documentary in October 2024, sharing raw insights into the search and its devastating effect on the children. He described how hope would surge in the mornings during those 23 days, only to crumble as darkness fell. “It used to get to about 3pm and then I’d start panicking that I knew it would start going dark in an hour,” he recalled. “So we had an hour to find her. And then obviously I’d have the girls.”

Three years on, the pain has not disappeared — it has simply changed shape. The girls are older now, more aware of the world around them, and better able to understand the permanence of their loss. They still talk about mummy, still keep her memory alive in small, everyday ways. Paul continues working as an engineer while being their primary caregiver, balancing grief with the practical demands of raising two daughters alone. The community in Lancashire has remained a quiet source of strength, offering practical help and emotional support without the intrusion of outsiders.

Yet the family’s heartbreak is compounded by the knowledge that Nicola’s disappearance became a national spectacle. The intense scrutiny, conspiracy theories, and cruel online comments added layers of trauma on top of an already unbearable loss. Paul has spoken about how the public attention, which initially felt helpful, quickly turned into something darker — “poking a monster” that refused to let the family grieve in peace.

As another year passes without Nicola, her daughters continue growing up in her shadow. They carry her love with them, even as they navigate the questions that no child should ever have to ask. Paul’s commitment to protecting their innocence while being honest about their loss has become his guiding principle. The family leans on each other, on memories of happier times, and on the quiet resilience that has kept them moving forward.

Nicola Bulley was more than a headline or a missing person case. She was a mum who dropped her girls at school with a smile, a partner who built a life full of love, and a woman whose sudden absence ripped a hole through the heart of her family. Three years later, her daughters still look for her in the quiet moments. They still wonder if she’s cold or hungry. They still ask the question that breaks their father’s heart every single night.

The road ahead remains difficult. Birthdays will come and go. School performances will happen without her proud smile in the audience. Life will continue, shaped by a loss that can never be fully healed. But through it all, Paul, the girls, and the wider family are determined to honour Nicola’s memory by living with the love and strength she instilled in them.

For now, the two daughters wake up each morning and go to school like any other children. They laugh, they play, they learn. But in the quiet evenings, when the house grows still, the same tender question returns — a small voice in the darkness asking for the mummy they miss with every beat of their hearts.

Nicola Bulley’s story may have faded from the daily headlines, but for her children and the man who loved her, the ache remains raw and real. They carry her with them in glimpses and memories, in the way they smile or tell a joke, in the quiet strength they show every single day. The hole she left is bigger than anyone outside the family could possibly imagine — but so is the love that refuses to let her go.

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