Justice for my hero son
i’ll never get over the agony of what happened
Eventually, in June last year, the case began at the Old Bailey.
Tommy Roome and another man, both aged 19 at the time of the attack, pleaded not guilty to murder and attempted murder.
They also denied alternative charges of manslaughter and wounding Paul with intent.
The court heard that Roome had gone to the area that day looking for two brothers with whom he had an ongoing dispute, but hadn’t found them.
He and the other teenager were on mopeds, while a third followed on a mountain bike.
Spotting them on the home security sizing up Perry’s scooter, Paul opened the front door, told them to f*ck off.
Then Roxy had come out, barking, waking up Ricky. Ricky had got Perry, and they’d both run out – barefoot and in boxers, unarmed – while Paul went to grab a baseball bat.
The whole thing had all happened in seconds.
I sat in court every day for a month, hearing about my boy’s final moments.
Watching gut-wrenching footage of Ricky running down the street in his boxers.
Seeing him as he tried to flee the teenagers.
Harrowing.
In the end, the second teen was cleared of all charges.
And the jury found Tommy Roome not guilty of murder, convicting him instead of manslaughter.
Roome was also cleared of the attempted murder of Paul, and the alternative charge of wounding with intent. We were distraught. Roome had 25 previous convictions, including violence, and was known to routinely carry a knife.
He’d gone out that night armed, spoiling for a fight – while my innocent Ricky was simply protecting his family, his home.
Roome was sentenced to 14 years, with a further five on extended licence.
Some justice but nothing, compared to a stolen life.
‘Rot in hell!’ I screamed as he was led away.
Of course, we were glad Roome was jailed, and we managed to smile for the cameras outside the court.
But I’ll never get over the agony of what happened to Ricky or having to see and hear the distressing details in court.
I’m on antidepressants and having counselling, but I’m still too ill to go back to work.
And Paul hasn’t yet recovered from his injuries, while April and Perry struggle with the void left by the death of their big brother.
I’m telling my story to raise awareness of knife crime, and to campaign to get knives off the streets.
Our Ricky didn’t deserve to die like that – slaughtered on his own doorstep.