Kate Bushell was killed in 1997 at the age of 14, but 20 years on there have been no charges and no answers

NICKY Johns, 34, lives in Cullompton, Devon, with her husband Mark, 32, a store manager, and daughters Alice, two, and Lydia, two months.

“Hugging my bridesmaids, I couldn’t help but feel a tinge of sadness. It was my wedding day, and my best friend Kate Bushell should have been there.

But in 1997, aged just 14, Kate was murdered – and her killer has never been found.

Kate and I had been best friends from the age of nine. Inseparable, at weekends we’d hang out in our hometown of Exeter or spend hours chatting.

Our birthdays were one day apart, and she always made me birthday cards.

The year before Kate died, she’d sewn “Happy Birthday Nicola” on a pink heart for me, which I adored, and my mum took us to Plymouth to go ice-skating. We had the best time whizzing around the ice.

Not only was Kate brilliant at arts and crafts, she was really funny and always ready to pull a silly face when I needed cheering up.

She was amazing at sports, too – I don’t think there was much she wasn’t good at – but she never showed off, which made her even more lovely and the perfect best friend.

The last time I saw Kate, on November 14, 1997, was a normal Friday at school. We didn’t have plans to meet up, so waved goodbye saying we’d see each other on Monday. The following day at 5pm the phone rang.

It was Kate’s mum Suzanne, now 61, calling to see if Kate was at our house, as she hadn’t returned after walking the neighbour’s dog.

I wasn’t worried initially. Dad and I decided to drive around to look for Kate, and I assumed we’d catch her walking home. But after two hours we had to give up.

With the police alerted, a helicopter was sent out to search for her. I went to bed at 8.30pm, but I couldn’t sleep. My mind was racing – Kate had been gone too long. Something was wrong.

The phone rang at around 9pm, and I remember my mum shutting the door as she answered it before calling me and my brother downstairs.

Tearfully, she explained that Kate had been murdered just down the road from her house – someone had brutally stabbed her in the neck.

Hearing the news, I felt completely numb. My brother cried, but I didn’t shed a tear. I just couldn’t believe what had happened.

We went back to school two days later, but Kate’s absence left a weird atmosphere. Eventually, though, reality sank in, and when I was in my bedroom at night I’d think about how I would never see my friend again.

The pain was unbearable – it felt I’d lost part of myself.

Because the police took a long time to release her body, Kate’s funeral wasn’t held until July 10, the following year. As the months rolled by I tried to move on, but there was a huge space where my best friend should have been.

Kate’s family stayed in touch with my parents occasionally, but they were completely bereft.

Despite £1million investigation, 5,000 house-to-house inquiries and over 5,000 DNA samples, only three suspects have been interviewed and released.

No one was charged with Kate's murder, which made us so angry.

As I grew up, I’d often think about Kate, and I couldn’t help but feel guilty that I was experiencing life when she wasn’t.

My wedding day in June 2014 was especially difficult. I so wanted her to be there, and it made me wonder whether she would have settled down like I had or travelled the world. We didn’t speak much about the future, but I know she wanted to go to university.

It’s been 20 years, but little reminders of Kate are everywhere. Suzanne gave all of Kate’s friends a little toy from her room.

Mine is a gorilla that clips on to things, and I still have it on my bedroom curtains.

When I look at my daughters, I can’t comprehend how devastated I’d be if something happened to them.

I don’t want to be over-protective, but Kate’s murder made me see the world differently. I still hope her killer will be caught.