I deserve the truth
My son was supposed to be getting better... but he never came home
Seeing my son Matthew in his new school uniform, I was bursting with pride. In his matching grown-up blazer and tie, I had to remind myself he was still just a boy, only 11.
But Matthew had always been ahead of the pack.
By three, he could swim laps around me in the local pool.
And later, at school, he excelled in all his subjects.
I was so proud when he got a place at the local grammar school.
And now, I knew he had a bright future ahead of him.
As a teenager, Matthew worked as a part-time lifeguard, and continued to get As in all his subjects.
‘I’m so proud of you,’ I said when he picked up his GCSE results.
‘Mum, you’re so embarrassing!’ he teased me back.
But secretly, I knew he was chuffed.
He was one step closer to achieving his goal of running his own IT business.
And when he turned 18, he moved into a house share.
I’d visit every day, dropped off dinners, too.
One day in February 2011, he looked at the casserole I’d brought and frowned.
‘I can’t eat that,’ he said to me, sadly.
He explained he’d been getting pains in his stomach.
‘Have you been to the doctor?’ I asked, concerned.
He had, but the GP didn’t know what was wrong.
Instead, as Matthew had been feeling down because of the pain, his doctor had prescribed antidepressants.
‘But they don’t help,’ Matthew sighed.
Afterwards, I kept a close eye on him.
Only, the pain seemed to get worse and so did Matthew’s mood.
Eventually, the only thing that seemed to help was cannabis.
And I was furious. ‘You should know better!’ I scolded.
After five months, he was worse than ever and his mental health was at an all time low.
In July 2011, Matthew was admitted to The Linden Centre – part of the North Essex Partnership University NHS Foundation Trust (NEP) – a mentalhealth clinic, for around-theclock support.
I was terrified for him, visited every day.
Doctors suspected Matthew was suffering from coeliac disease and vitamin B12 deficiency.
His notes confirmed that it could cause tummy pains and affect mental health, too.
He was given vitamin supplements and would need more tests.
But by November 2011, he was discharged and went back to his house share.
Only, it was clear something was still very wrong.
Whenever I visited, I noticed Matthew walked around the house like a zombie.
Dribbling, withdrawn,
complaining of back pain and headaches, too.
I took him straight to the doctor, who suggested that we wean him off his antidepressants.
Only, this caused his mental health to spiral again.
Miserable and low, he kept threatening to take his own life.
It was heartbreaking. I battled with Matthew for a year.
But it all felt so hopeless. I was desperate to help my son, I just didn’t know how.
Finally, in November 2012, Matthew was taken back to The Linden Centre, where they sectioned him once more for treatment.
At least, there, he’ll be monitored 24 hours a day, I reassured myself. To let him settle back in, doctors advised me not to visit for a week. It was torture, but I hoped when I saw him on 15 November 2012, things would be different.
Only, as I was getting ready to leave the house that afternoon, my phone rang. It was one of Matthew’s doctors from the centre. ‘I’m sorry to have to tell you that Matthew’s been found hanging,’ he said. I dropped to my knees. Distraught, I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. I’d sent my son there for help.
Now my worst nightmare had come true.
Pulling myself together, I rushed to the centre. By the time I arrived, I wasn’t allowed in Matthew’s room and was told he’d been taken to A&E. Though I was allowed to see his body, I couldn’t hold him, kiss him goodbye.
All I kept thinking was, Why? How could this have been allowed to happen?
I needed answers.
It took two years for Matthew’s case to go to inquest.
Even then, the results were deemed inconclusive.
But I knew I couldn’t give up.
I felt sure he hadn’t been cared for properly and that the centre hadn’t been open or honest enough with me about Matthew’s condition and treatment.
The more I dug, the more I learnt I wasn’t the only mum who’d lost someone like this.
I knew I had to do something to help these families, as well as get justice for Matthew.
I made a stream of complaints to a number of official bodies.
And I gathered evidence until Essex Police agreed to launch a probe into 25 deaths at the trust dating back to 2000.
Heartbreakingly, though, the case was dropped in 2018.
But I kept pushing – and in 2019, I took the fight to Downing Street.
Finally, in January this year, the Parliamentary and Health Service Ombudsman published a report into Matthew’s treatment.
It identified significant failings made in his care and towards another vulnerable patient.
Things I knew in my heart but was glad to finally have written down on paper.
Since then, I have launched a campaign for a public inquiry.
So families like mine can get the closure they deserve.
Something positive has to come from Matthew’s death, it simply must.
And I won’t be able to grieve until justice is done.
Andy Brogan, Deputy CEO for the Essex Partnership University NHS Foundation Trust (which took over from NEP in 2017), said the trust was ‘deeply sorry’ and admitted the investigation into Matthew’s death was ‘inadequate’. ‘We are very sorry indeed for the additional pain and distress this caused Mr Leahy’s family,’ he added.
How could this have been allowed to happen?