A tiny innocent life snuffed out in unimaginable cruelty. Baby Preston Davey, just 13 months old, endured months of sexual abuse and torture before being smothered to death by the very men entrusted with his care. But the darkest twist in this already heartbreaking saga is the identity of his birth mother—a woman with a chilling history of her own: Sarah Davey, a convicted killer who, as a 14-year-old girl, brutally tortured and murdered a vulnerable pensioner in one of Manchester’s most shocking crimes of the 1990s.

The revelation, which could only be reported after Jamie Varley, 37, was convicted of Preston’s murder at Preston Crown Court on June 15, 2026, has left families reeling, authorities facing scrutiny, and the public demanding answers about how such a cycle of violence and systemic failure was allowed to claim another young victim. Preston’s short life, marked by removal from his birth mother just days after birth, placement with foster carers, and eventual adoption by two men who would destroy him, exposes profound cracks in child protection that no family should ever have to endure.

A Baby Born into Turmoil

Preston Davey entered the world on June 16, 2022, at Wythenshawe Hospital. His mother, Sarah Davey, then around 40 years old, gave birth while associated with the mother and baby unit at Styal women’s prison in Cheshire. Her occupation was listed as a hairdresser on his birth certificate, with the prison unit noted as her address. Preston spent just five precious days with Sarah before being taken into care by social services in Oldham.

Sarah Davey was no ordinary first-time mother navigating challenges. At just 14 years old in 1998, she and her 15-year-old friend Lisa Healey committed a crime that shocked the nation. They befriended 71-year-old widow Lily Lilley, a vulnerable grandmother living alone in Failsworth. Gaining her trust, the girls entered her home on West Street, where they unleashed unimaginable brutality: squirting shampoo into her eyes, cutting her with a knife, and gagging her so tightly that her dentures were forced down her throat, leading to her death by choking.

The horror didn’t end there. The pair stuffed Lily’s lifeless body into a wheelie bin, wheeled it through the streets of Failsworth, and dumped it in the Rochdale Canal. In a final act of callousness, they stole from her pension, using the money for crisps and chocolate while making hundreds of calls from her phone. A judge in 1999 branded the murder “unspeakably wicked,” sentencing Sarah to life with a minimum of eight years before parole eligibility.

Sarah’s path after release was anything but reformed. Freed from Askham Grange women’s prison in 2013 after serving 14 years, she struggled with drugs, breaching licence conditions multiple times with cocaine use and other incidents. She was recalled to prison repeatedly—on at least six further occasions up to November 2021—despite periods of freedom where she partied, posted on social media, and started relationships. Concerns over opioid use in prison added to her turbulent history.

Yet she became pregnant again. Preston’s birth came amid another parole process, delayed by the impending delivery. Social services stepped in quickly, placing him in foster care while allowing Sarah supervised access. His grandmother, Debra Davey, 66, desperately wanted to care for him alongside plans for Sarah, but a breast cancer diagnosis the day after his birth shattered those hopes. Debra later revealed the family had a “gut feeling” against the adoption by Jamie Varley and John McGowan-Fazakerley, but their concerns were dismissed.

The Adoptive Dads and a Trail of Unimaginable Suffering

Preston thrived initially with loving foster parents, seeing his birth mother and grandmother regularly. But everything changed when he was placed with Varley, a former teacher and head of year at a Blackpool school, and his partner, sales manager John McGowan-Fazakerley. The couple presented an Instagram-perfect image, but behind closed doors, prosecutors alleged a nightmare of sexual abuse, physical torment, and eventual murder.

On July 27, 2023, the men rushed an unconscious Preston to Blackpool Victoria Hospital. Despite nearly an hour of resuscitation efforts, he was pronounced dead at 7:20pm. The cause: acute upper airways obstruction—prosecutors said he had been smothered. His tiny body told a story of prolonged horror: over 30 bruises, a perforated bowel, a bite mark, and other injuries consistent with repeated sexual and physical abuse.

Varley and McGowan-Fazakerley were arrested but initially released on bail as investigations dragged on for two years—frustrating Preston’s family, who pushed for justice. At trial, Varley was convicted of murder, sexual abuse, and multiple counts of child cruelty. McGowan-Fazakerley faced convictions for allowing the death, cruelty, and sexual assault. The courtroom drama peaked as Varley reportedly fell to his knees upon hearing the guilty verdicts.

Sarah Davey attended the trial as a regular visitor, her identity shielded from the jury. She reportedly sobbed and had to leave the public gallery during the most harrowing evidence, supported by police. In the aftermath, she has posted about Preston on TikTok, her grief public yet complicated by her own past.

Grandmother’s Anguish and Calls for Accountability

Debra Davey has been vocal in her devastation. “I’ve had some bad things happen in my life, but this is by far the worst,” she said. She described the joy of Preston’s birth and her daughter’s initial time with him, only for cancer to derail family care plans. The family objected to the adoption, citing a “horrible feeling,” but social services proceeded.

Debra demanded answers from social services, the adoption agency, and hospital staff: “Alarm bells should have been ringing.” She questioned the checks made on Varley and his partner, pointing to missed opportunities despite hospital visits and concerns. “It’s unreal, I can’t take it in really… All we could hear was apologies. But it’s not their grandchild.” She has four granddaughters but lost her only grandson.

The case has ignited fury over child protection failures. How was a child with a birth mother of such notoriety placed in an environment that allegedly allowed such evil? Why were family warnings ignored? Broader questions loom about vetting processes for adopters, especially in cases involving vulnerable children with complex backgrounds.

Sarah Davey’s Cycle of Crime and Release

Sarah’s criminal history is a study in repeated failure of the justice and rehabilitation systems. After her initial release, incidents like being arrested near the original murder scene for breach of the peace highlighted ongoing issues. Probation decisions sometimes kept her out despite red flags. The Parole Board grappled with her opioid use and instability.

She had another daughter before Preston. Her releases and recalls paint a picture of a woman unable—or unwilling—to break free from destructive patterns, yet still granted opportunities to parent. Preston’s removal into care shortly after birth reflects the system’s recognition of risks, but the subsequent adoption pathway raises troubling questions about oversight.

A Nation Demands Justice and Reform

Preston’s death is not an isolated tragedy but part of a pattern exposing vulnerabilities in safeguarding children. Varley’s position as a teacher adds another layer of betrayal—someone entrusted with young lives now convicted of destroying one in the most intimate setting: the family home.

As sentences loom, Preston’s family seeks closure while calling for systemic change. Debra’s pain is raw: imagining the horrors her grandson endured is unbearable. She believes McGowan-Fazakerley “knew” and that more will emerge about him.

For Sarah Davey, the resurfacing of her past coincides with the loss of her son. Her grandmother has emphasized that the focus must remain on Preston, not her history. Yet the connection forces uncomfortable reflections on intergenerational trauma, rehabilitation efficacy, and whether some risks can ever be fully mitigated.

Baby Preston Davey lived just 13 months, but his story will echo for years. It is one of innocence destroyed, family bonds fractured by violence and illness, and a justice system under pressure to do better. From the brutal murder of Lily Lilley decades ago to the torture and death of this tiny boy, the threads of tragedy bind generations.

Communities in Greater Manchester and beyond are left heartbroken, outraged, and resolute that no more children should fall through the cracks. Preston’s brief life, filled with potential stolen too soon, demands that alarm bells not only ring—but that someone finally answers them. His legacy must be reform, vigilance, and an unwavering commitment to protecting the most vulnerable among us from the monsters who hide in plain sight.

The full weight of this dual horror—past and present—serves as a stark reminder: evil doesn’t always lurk in shadows. Sometimes it wears a familiar face, slips through bureaucratic gaps, and claims the lives we swear to protect. For Preston, justice has come, but the scars on all involved will never fully heal. His memory cries out for a society that learns from such devastating failures before another innocent pays the ultimate price.