I was questioned by the police after taking a selfie with my daughter. For a year, I saved frantically for legal bills and didn't turn my heating on

I walked from my solicitor’s office into the bright Plymouth sunshine, as she confidently assured me that she would hear from the police within a couple days. It was September 2025 and I had just attended an interview under caution with two officers. From the moment I heard about it, I took the police investigation extremely seriously, instructing one of the best local criminal defence firms, known for representing people accused of offences ranging from burglary and drug importation to posting problematic tweets. Now, having done everything required of me, all I could do was wait for the police to do their part. Little did I know that it would be another 13 months before I learned the outcome of this investigation. And even then, I discovered it by accident. Last September, I wrote in the Mail about how I was being investigated for harassment over four X posts . The first was a factual update: 'Former Devon + Cornwall Police officer Harry Tangye has been charged with stalking and harassment after an investigation led by West Yorkshire Police.' As a journalist, I routinely share police news so that people find me on X and DM me their own stories, which I sell to media outlets. The second tweet was equally mundane, as it simply quoted and linked to a Plymouth Live article about Tangye and his partner being arrested in Newquay. Then, in a conversation with another X user, I referred to the defendant by his initials and said I believed his 'bail had been extended to early May'. This bland remark was presented to me as the third piece of 'evidence'. And the final piece of 'evidence' was a simple selfie of me and my daughter on a beach near my sister's house in Newquay. I hadn't tagged or mentioned the complainant, and it's literally one of Cornwall's busiest beaches. The selfie Rebecca took with her daughter on the beach, which prompted police to investigate her for 'harassment' Because this ex-copper lived nearby and claimed it made him feel 'fearful and distressed', someone in a position of authority at the force decided that the matter warranted a formal criminal investigation. So after being abruptly informed that a failure to attend a voluntary interview would lead to my arrest, I made the two-and-a-half-hour journey to Plymouth, where two police officers questioned me at my solicitor's office. I sat silently while the PCs, diverted from the traditional business of keeping the city centre streets safe, questioned me about the apparently alarming acts of sharing local press articles and taking my daughter to the beach. One might assume that the police would only reasonably need a day or so to review an interview under caution concerning four social media posts. Handily, I'd even saved them the trouble of listening to lengthy answers by providing a written statement instead. Yet the days turned into weeks, then those weeks turned into months, without a word on the outcome. For 13 months, I continued to believe that I was under criminal investigation, with the possibility of a prosecution looming over me. Nobody joins the police dreaming of a career investigating tweets. I can imagine that my case was just another entry on a computer system to the officers dealing with it – and not a particularly exciting one. Rebecca Tidy spent a year frantically saving to cover her potential legal bills and didn't put the heating on all winter Every 28 days, my solicitor diligently asked the force for an update. None came. Another month without an update was of little consequence to them. But every day of uncertainty had practical consequences for my own life. For thirteen months, this uncertainty shaped the decisions I made about money, work and our home. Most importantly, it affected the time and resources I could devote to my daughter, her education and wellbeing. I knew the career consequences of a harassment conviction could be devastating. As a single mother, I’m well aware that there is no second wage to fall back on in our home. Nobody else is going to pay my bills, feed my child or keep our household afloat if my income disappears. So I did what any responsible parent would do and began saving for the possibility of a criminal prosecution. Before my interview, several Cornish criminal defence solicitors quoted me between £350 and £650 an hour for preparation work. I realised that by setting aside £1,000 a month, I would still only get two hours and 13 minutes of legal representation, based on an average hourly rate of £450. A simple one-day trial with two days of preparation would cost over £10k on legal fees alone. Most harassment cases are heard in the Magistrates Court where you’re automatically ineligible for Legal Aid if your gross annual household income is £22,325 or more. I instantly culled all non-essential purchases including my monthly Mounjaro prescription, quarterly Botox top-up and lip filler. Haircuts and highlights went next. Then I swapped my beloved weekly Waitrose grocery shop for Lidl, whenever possible. But as the months passed, it wasn't only me going without.*Mabel's clothes increasingly came from Vinted, bought second or third-hand. I didn’t book our annual summer trip to Italy. Every time I was about to spend money, I found myself thinking that I could be charged the following week and regret spending it. I was even too nervous to pay to have the hot water fixed when it broke last winter. Looking back, perhaps I should have known that I wouldn’t be charged for sharing three published news reports. But the police told me they suspected I’d committed a crime, so I took them seriously. Of course, I desperately hoped that the Crown Prosecution Service would draw a firm line between distress caused by the consequences of a complainant's own arrest and charge being public knowledge, and distress caused by criminal harassment. Nevertheless, I couldn't rule out the possibility that they might take a different view, leaving me to argue my case in court. The police had already threatened me with arrest if I failed to attend the interview, after all. I wasn't about to gamble my livelihood on the assumption that common sense would prevail. It sounds slightly ridiculous now, but when you’re living with that uncertainty, your brain often reaches for the worst-case scenario. Every spare penny went into the pot of money I believed I might need to defend myself. I worked an awful lot more too. There were evenings when I should have been listening to Mabel read or helping with her schoolwork, but instead I was sitting at my laptop trying to earn more money. She deserved better. Then, last week, an unexpected email arrived from Devon and Cornwall Police. It contained a partial response to a Subject Access Request I had made 18 months earlier, asking for copies of the personal information they held about me. I wasn't expecting it to tell me anything about the harassment investigation. But buried among the disclosure was an entry that stopped me in my tracks. The police had decided to take no further action against me less than a fortnight after my interview under caution, thirteen months previous. They hadn’t even submitted their file to the CPS for a charging decision. Their own record stated: “I will seek to update Suspect of this outcome.” Nobody did. I wasn't actually relieved to discover that the case had been closed. Instead I was furious. In my view, an investigation over four social media posts should never have been opened in the first place. Even the wording of their comment infuriated me. How, exactly, do you “seek” to update somebody? It required a quick update to my solicitor, not a search party. It turns out I am far from the only person to have experienced problems with the way Devon and Cornwall Police handles investigations. Last month, His Majesty’s Inspectorate of Constabulary and Fire and Rescue Services escalated the force to Level Three of its Policing Performance System after Inspectors found that cases were left unallocated for weeks and that too few investigations were being carried out or supervised effectively. In some cases involving sexual offences and concerns for children’s safety, investigative work had remained unallocated for almost two months. The watchdog ordered the force to take immediate action. I find myself wondering how many other people are anxiously awaiting the outcome of a Devon and Cornwall Police investigation that has, in fact, already ended. Throughout all of this, I did everything the police demanded. I instructed a solicitor, travelled two-and-a-half hours to Plymouth for the interview, provided a written statement and pursued updates afterwards. I did my utmost to protect my child from the harm this investigation could cause, attending the interview rather than risk her seeing me arrested, and then saving money and working longer hours to ensure we had a financial safety net if I was prosecuted. But I couldn't protect her from being left in limbo long after the investigation had ended. Telling somebody that their case is closed is surely one of the most basic responsibilities of the police and takes minutes, yet failing to do it can shape an entire family’s lives for months or even years. I kept my end of the bargain. Devon and Cornwall Police didn't keep theirs. And it wasn't only me who lived with the consequences. Devon and Cornwall Police have been contacted for comment.