I said I would take them home with me. I looked at his body he had hardly a mark on him. How could he be dead? There was just a small scar on his neck but they said all the injures were internal. His body was transferred to the chapel of rest and I went to see him everyday until his funeral, the 28th March. When I was there I would put on some of his favourite music and he just lay there like he was resting.
Richard’s father Alex took his death very badly indeed. From the day he died he would not leave the house or see anyone. When the headstone was put in place at Richard’s grave, my other son John went to see his father and found him lying dead on the floor in his bedroom.
Sophie was only two and half when her father died and only one month later her grandfather was also dead.
Richard idolised Sophie, he loved her so much, he was always picking her up and kissing her. Sophie tells people that she does not remember her father to protect herself from questions but she does remember him. She remembers the hugs and the kisses and his smiling face. No one really knows how it will effect her but all I know is the pain goes on and on.
Every day I think about Richard and Alex and it torments me. The injustice of it all leaves me in despair. No one really knows or cares what exactly happened and the authorities don’t seem to want to find out the truth.
Every morning when I wake up it hits me again, only a mother who has lost a child can know how I feel.