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JAN MOIR: Murdering for a bet? It's just a laugh to the children who have logged out of real life

By Jan Moir for the Daily Mail
Updated: 04:01 EST, 29 July 2011

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You've got to admit, Joshua Davies didn't look too bothered walking into court, says Jan Moir

You've got to admit, Joshua Davies didn’t look too bothered walking into court. Murder charge? No biggie. Bit of a laff, actually. Might have a snicker about it later on Facebook with my pals. Judge said I would be in custody for a very long time. LOL!

The cocky smile started to waver when Davies was finally found guilty of murdering his ex-girlfriend. At first he showed no emotion, then he started to cry when told he faced an ‘indefinite’ sentence.

Was this the moment when the gravity of what he had done finally dawned on the 16-year-old schoolboy? No, not quite. Joshua’s tears were only for himself; a moment of vulnerability in a catalogue of cruelty and asinine bravado.

For he and his friends inhabited their own little online world, communicating their darkest thoughts using a blizzard of textspeak and smiley faces on a variety of social networking sites.

He is one of those teenagers who appeared to spend most of his time connected to the internet, but disconnected from life. A chilling detachment which cost 15-year-old Rebecca Aylward her life.

The cold facts were splashed all over the newspapers this week, telling a terrible story of our times.

In October last year, Davies took Rebecca into woodland near his home village of Aberkenfig, South Wales, and murdered her. He hit her six times over the head with a rock, after attempts to break her neck failed.

He left her there, lying face down on the forest floor, wearing the new clothes she had bought for their date. Later, he took at least one friend back to view the body. Good times.

What is so awful is that this was no crime of passion or a moment of madness.

The truth is much darker and more difficult to understand.

For Davies did it for a laugh, for a dare, for a bet. He did it for a free breakfast, promised by one of his mates if he went ahead with the murder.

He did it because he was bored. And one cannot escape the bleak suspicion that he did it to have something to text his friends about, to fill a void in his personal cyberspace, to satisfy an adolescent thrill.

Rarely has a life been taken so cheaply or a murder carried out so frivolously.

No wonder that Rebecca’s family are heartbroken and have vowed never to forgive Davies. There is no reason why they should.

Murdered: Rebecca Aylward

The court heard that the teens had an on-off relationship that was ended by Rebecca after three months.

Following this, Davies spent weeks telling friends he wanted to kill her because she was ‘annoying’.

He said he might drown her or push her off a cliff, depending on mood and circumstances. He even bought some poison, showing he had bent his mind to the practicality of the act.

His friends indulged him, egged him on, texted their words of encouragement. Later they all said that they did not take him seriously, but can that be true?

Their texted responses seem to tell a very different story. And none of them thought to warn poor Rebecca, whether they believed Davies or not.

At the very least, if it was a joke it was in extremely bad taste.

Sure, they called him a ‘sick, sick boy’, but this appeared to be in admiration rather than reproach.

Two days before the murder, Davies texted the friend who had promised to buy him a meal if he went through with the killing and told him: ‘Don’t say anything but you may just owe me a breakfast.’

The friend replied: ‘Best text I ever had mate. Seriously, if it is true I am happy to pay for a breakfast. I want all the details. You sadistic b******.’ He signed off with a smiley face symbol.

How sickening.

Surely the friend who offered to buy Davies breakfast for killing Rebecca bears a certain amount of culpability, too? And what about the rest of the gang — are they all nascent monsters, or just another batch of desensitised and casually violent teens?

Sonia Aylward the mother of murdered schoolgirl Rebecca Aylward outside court with Rebecca's brother and sister

During the trial, another of the friends — they cannot be named, as they are under 16 — gave evidence in court, before later mocking the proceedings and the accused on Skype. Within minutes of giving evidence via a video link.

More from Jan Moir for the Daily Mail...

Nothing is real to these dislocated teenagers. There seems to be a thick cyber-screen between them and the real world. Everything is a bit of a laugh to them, with none of them seemingly capable of telling right from wrong.

Davies is a bright boy whose parents went to church regularly, but he appears to have no moral compass or respect for the sanctity of life.

For him, murder was a bit of a giggle. Until he ended up in jail. Unsmiley face.

Joshua Davies has yet to be sentenced and there is no reason to suspect the judge will be lenient with him. And while what he did was unforgiveable, I can’t help but think that this is a tragedy for him, too.

Davies is barely 16 and already his life is ruined, in utter tatters. However, it is important to remember his life is not over, unlike that of his poor victim, Rebecca Aylward.

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NO COSTA CHAV FOR OUR DAVE

Activity sandals? Check. Sunblock? Check. Cleggy in charge of the country? Checkity-check, mate.

Following hot on the heels of the Blairs, David and our Samantha are off on holiday to Tuscany. Yes, they are staying in a lovely villa, with hot and cold running luxury, but are keen to let it be known that they are Paying Their Own Way.

Unlike the Blairs, of course. We all know that Tony and Cherie would crawl across a pit of scorpions to get their mitts on a glass of free Prosecco, but the Cams have deeper pockets and are paying just under six grand a week for their gaff.

Still, aren’t you glad the Cams are going luxe this year? At least we won’t have to go through that awful charade when they knock back cheap lager on the Costa Chav and pretend to be as broke as the rest of us.

However, to feed the public appetite for visible frugality, they must still endure the tiresome business of flying to Italy on a budget airline.

We all know that Sam & Dave are so rich they could fly there on matching mink-lined private jets, but in these financial climes, appearance — rather than speedy boarding or an allocated seat — is everything.

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Claudia has designed her own range of cashmere jumpers

CLAUDIA PROVES SHE'S NO KNIT-WIT

As I know very well, it is simply not enough these days to be glamorous, successful, a household name and a woman of substance who is adored by millions.

Sometimes you’ve got to give something more. Like Gwyneth with her lifestyle tips. Fergie with her tears. And now Claudia Schiffer with her jumpers.

You see, the German supermodel had a problem. What to wear on the school run that was practical and stylish? All the stores in London, the hordes of designers around the country couldn’t come up with what Claudia wanted.

So she has designed her own range of cashmere jumpers and dresses, most of which cost something very far north of £400.

Now, I want to be honest here. Claudia’s cashmere is gorgeous. I love it all. So now she is a supermodel, mum, businesswoman, blonde goddess and, um, knitter?

And at least her jumpers are better than Geri Haliwell’s new range of evening dresses. Have you seen them? Shriek. Let’s put it this way.

If you ever need a trashy gown in neon synthetics to wear to a Come As A Hooker Ball, Geri is your gal.

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Lib Dem MP Jo Swinson has successfully challenged Julia Roberts's advert

GLOSSING OVER THE REAL ISSUES

Lib Dem MP Jo Swinson has successfully challenged Julia Roberts’s advert for Lancôme’s Teint Miracle foundation.

Swinson claimed that the ads were misleading because Julia’s flawless skin in the image was the result of digital manipulation, not the product. You don’t say? You do say!

Too right, agreed the Advertising Standards Authority, and promptly banned the ads. A similar advert featuring the luminous Christy Turlington for Maybelline was also banned.

So, well done Jo! Another victory for the trusty sword of truth. However, does anyone actually believe any of these adverts in the first place?

We know that Julia is airbrushed. We understand that even Christy is hosed down with the kind of reflective emulsion normally used to paint lighthouses.

It is a given that Cheryl’s eyelashes are made of plaited furze from the belly of a black yak and not real mascara, as advertised.

That is all part of the fun. Jane Fonda might use L’Oreal, whose products she advertises, but she has also used the services of Hollywood’s finest surgeons for her youthful appearance.

This we know. Yes, it is all rubbish, but — I would venture — a harmless kind of rubbish that is oddly enjoyable.

If Jo Swinson really wants to take on the advertising industry, why stop at lipsticks? The real disgrace in this country is not a little harmless

Photoshop on Julia Roberts’s blemishes — it is the fake promises made by those advertising dodgy financial products and pensions. Which are quite often endorsed by celebrities. Jo would really do us all a favour if she started on those.

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A big get well soon kiss to Ed Miliband.

When he next speaks in public, he won’t be Adenoidal Ed any more. He may have a new voice, but will he have anything new to say?

For it is not how you say it; it is what you say that is important.

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Stephen Morrissey has spoken out about the Norway atrocities

STUFF A VEGAN BURGER IN IT, MORRISSEY!

What news of Morrissey, I hear you ask? At a concert in Warsaw at the weekend, the committed vegetarian singer commented on the Oslo attacks.

He has sympathy, but not much, for those who perished when Anders Behring Breivik launched a bomb attack in Oslo before shooting dozens of teenagers on the island of Utoya.

‘We all live in a murderous world, as the events in Norway have shown, with 97 [sic] dead.

‘Though that is nothing compared to what happens in McDonald’s and Kentucky Fried S*** every day.’

What a desperate old has-been, dragging his sorry carcass around the backwaters of Europe, trying desperately to be edgy and controversial. Is it too much to hope that he gets attacked by a chicken?

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Scrunchies are back. Oh dear me, no. Has there ever been a more unattractive accessory, up to and including Lady Gaga’s amusing metal nipple caps?

Along with the padded velvet headband and legwarmers, the scrunchie is a terrible reminder of the Eighties, the decade that style forgot.

Yes, Kylie wore them and so did the Duchess of York. I seem to recall the Davids Emanuel and Van Day in scrunchies, too, or perhaps that was just a nightmare.

Either way, there is no excuse for wearing them again.