PC Andrew Harper’s mum reveals trauma that made her depart household dwelling

Sitting in the hospital mortuary, beside the body of her beloved son, Debbie Adlam was gripped by a terrible, all-too familiar feeling.

Guilt. Dreadful guilt.

For too many years she’d lived with the weight of that guilt after she’d left the family home – when her son was four and his little brother a one-year-old baby – as her marriage fell apart.

She can’t even recall the day she left, so confused and worn-down was she by what she now understands as birth trauma and post-natal depression.

It meant that for most of their lives she’d been a ‘weekend mum’, returning her two boys to their father on Sunday nights, before making the familiar and wretched journey home, always through reams of tears.

The guilt had left her feeling a failure, like no other mother she knew.

In a society where ‘weekend dads’ were – and largely still are – accepted without judgement, back then, nearly 30 years ago, there was nowhere she could go for support.

Nobody understood and many were quick to condemn.

It was a guilt she was only beginning to address with her adult son before he was so cruelly taken away.

Debbie looked over at his inert form on the mortuary table, shrouded in its royal blue velvet blanket with gold piping, and said the only words she could muster: ‘I’m so sorry.’

Recalling that awful day, Debbie, 57, says: ‘I knew, if he could hear me, he’d understand what I was saying. I didn’t need to explain.

‘I had so many things to say to him. The appalling way his life was taken was something that would change me and many other people for ever, and I just needed him to know just how much I loved him.’

Debbie’s son was PC Andrew Harper, the 28-year-old Thames Valley police officer who was brutally killed in the line of duty by a group of feral teenagers in August 2019.

He’d been sent to investigate reports of the group stealing a quad bike when his feet became caught in a tow rope, meaning he was dragged, for more than a mile, by their speeding car.

He’d suffered unsurvivable and unspeakable injuries and his family – including his new wife Lissie, to whom he’d only been married for four weeks – had their lives ripped apart.

Debbie takes small solace in knowing that, just two years before his death, she’d tried to apologise to Andrew and attempt to explain why she’d left.

‘It was one of the most difficult conversations I’d ever had,’ she recalls. ‘We were doing some work on our new house and Andrew was helping me get rid of old plaster boards.

‘As we drove back and forth to the recycling centre, I kept trying, and failing, to find the words. I didn’t know where to even begin.’

Later as they sat in her conservatory, the words finally came: ‘I had to force them out, knowing it would never get any easier. I said: “I just feel like I need to explain and apologise to you a little bit about what happened when you were young, and why you both grew up without me living in the house.”

‘But I didn’t get far before Andrew stopped me, saying: “You don’t need to explain, Mum. Everyone makes mistakes, it’s OK.”

‘Then he gave me a hug. Andrew knew how much I loved him. He was such an understanding person and not a finger-pointer. He knew life was not always simple, it is complex, messy and confusing. Good people make mistakes – that’s what made him such a good police officer.’

Thank goodness for that conversation.

Until now, however, Debbie has shared little about her grief publicly – partly because of the guilt she still carries.

‘In the 1990s there were no support groups or Facebook groups like we see today. There was nobody to talk to about shared experience. There was no obvious way to find them online. It was easy to feel like the only mother on the planet in this situation. And that was tough.’

Andrew’s widow, Lissie, now 32, spoke movingly to this newspaper about her devastating loss when she became a campaigner for the introduction of ‘Harper’s Law’ in Andrew’s memory.

It now means that anyone responsible for the death of an emergency worker in the line of duty automatically receives a mandatory life sentence.

She began her campaign after the three teenagers who’d wantonly killed Andrew were acquitted of murder and instead jailed for manslaughter.

Henry Long, 19, was sentenced to 16 years and Jessie Cole and Albert Bowers, both 18, were handed 13 years in custody. They claimed they’d had no idea they were dragging Andrew to his death as they sped away along a Berkshire country road that night on August 15.

And – in scenes that provoked revulsion and public outcry – the three showed no remorse for their heinous crime, and instead laughed, joked and waved at family and friends from the dock during their Old Bailey trial.

Lissie’s tireless and dignified campaign saw her awarded an MBE in the King’s New Year Honours List last December.

Accompanying her that day at Windsor Castle, as she received an honour for services to violent crime, was her new partner, emergency worker Dan Terry.

Of course, Debbie found it tough to hear of Lissie’s new love, a natural human reaction given the circumstances.

‘It’s almost unimaginable what we’ve all been through, but Lissie has got to get on with her life,’ she says. ‘She’s a young woman with so much ahead of her, and Andrew would want that for her.’

Debbie, a nervous and softly spoken woman – with the same soulful, dark blue eyes as her ‘gentle giant’ son – is frequently moved to tears as she remembers the painful break-up of her family and the loss of her beloved son.

‘I know I hurt my boys by leaving, but that was never my intention,’ she says. ‘I knew nothing about post-natal depression or birth trauma. I was in such a terrible place I wasn’t thinking straight. About them. About me. About anything.

‘Even now, nearly 30 years later, I can’t make sense of what I did, or what drove me to it, it was all such a blur.’

Yet, after hearing more recently about the Birth Trauma Association, which estimates that 4 to 5 per cent of women suffer post-traumatic stress disorder after giving birth, Debbie began making sense of what happened to her.

Debbie had a long and difficult labour with her younger son, who weighed in at a large 10lb 2ozs, during which she was left without pain relief.

‘Afterwards, I couldn’t even look at the midwife because of all the chaos and extreme pain.’

Subsequent complaints about her treatment were brushed off and she was, she says, simply ‘left to get on with it’.

Once back home, after an initial few ‘honeymoon’ months with her new baby, and his proud big brother, Debbie recalls feeling ‘numb’, like she was ‘walking through treacle’ and suffered flashbacks.

‘They crept in through the back door and grew into something much larger,’ she says.

While she had previously attended mother and toddler groups with Andrew, she could no longer seem to get out the door and would ‘self-medicate’ in the evenings, usually with wine.

Her relationship with her sons’ dad grew increasingly strained until they became almost like strangers.

‘You can’t sustain a marriage like that, and our problems were down to me and my mental health issues – my ex was holding down a job and being a good dad.

‘When eventually he suggested we separate and I leave, I couldn’t argue. I was in such a state I didn’t know what I was doing. I believed they were better off without me.’

Once she’d found a job, working as a security guard at Asda, she rented a place of her own and arranged for the boys, who were also being supported by both sets of grandparents, to stay with her every weekend.

‘It was a bumpy and emotional time, but never without love,’ she says.

‘It was awful dropping them off with their dad on Sunday evenings and I would drive home crying all the way.’

The wrench of being apart from her children plunged her into despair and Debbie was prescribed anti-depressants – and has been on them ever since.

Being a weekend mum felt isolating at times and public opprobrium stung.

‘In certain situations I felt judged – and I judged myself even more harshly – which really eroded my self confidence,’ she says.

‘I used to go to my boys’ school events, such as Christmas plays, but I felt like I stuck out like a sore thumb.

‘I remember one woman, who I barely knew, asking: “Why do you see them at all?”

‘I was appalled. How could she think that I could even contemplate not seeing my sons? I’m not sure anyone would ever say that to a separated dad.

‘But I understand people’s shock. If I hadn’t been pushed to that point myself, I probably would have judged another mother for leaving, too.’

If anything, however, the distance during the week made her love for her boys grow larger, and she has many happy memories.

‘There was always lots of laughter,’ she says. ‘Despite everything, those times were so special and we were a brilliant trio.’

There were occasional short holidays, including a flooded-out camping trip to the Lake District as well as a mini cruise to Santander, Spain, when Andrew was 11 and his brother eight.

But the days were mostly spent just being together: playing with friends; doing homework; and watching daft videos.

‘Andrew had a real knack for recalling things from comedy films or programmes and mimicking them – a talent he never lost. He was a very funny lad.’

Debbie met her husband, Phil, a builder, in 2006 and they married in 2013. He became a big part of her sons’ lives and Debbie, in turn, forged a close relationship as step-mum to his daughter.

‘She gained two big brothers and loved wrapping them round her finger as a youngster. She was bossy but so proud of being their sister.’

Andrew’s Dad also married again.

When he was 16, Andrew introduced Debbie to his beautiful new girlfriend, Lissie.

As is often the case as children grow up, he preferred to spend his weekends with her from then on. He gradually began to spend less time at his mum’s house, so his brother would visit alone, until he too began spreading his wings – and found his own soul mate.

She remembers her pride at watching Andrew, suited and booted and beaming with happiness, at his wedding to Lissie on July 18, 2019, with his brother as best man.

At the reception, she and Phil sat at the top table, along with the rest of the family.

Just four short weeks later, at 5am on August 16, 2019, Debbie was woken by a knock on her front door. Their world was about to change for ever.

Two police officers on the doorstep. ‘They said: “We need to come in.”

‘There was no time to wonder about what was going on, because they said immediately: “I’m afraid we’ve got to tell you Andrew’s died,” or “Andrew’s been killed”. I don’t remember which words exactly,’ says Debbie, her eyes welling with tears. ‘I told myself I was dreaming and would wake up to find it was all just a nightmare.’

But, of course, it was all too real.

‘I went upstairs and pleaded with Phil for his help. I had no idea what to say or do.’

Andrew’s younger brother was staying with them at the time, so it fell to Debbie to break the terrible news to him.

Debbie is typically harsh on herself over her handling of the situation: ‘He was still half asleep when I told him “Andrew has gone” and he was so confused he had no idea what I was talking about,’ she says.

‘It was the most dreadful, confusing and surreal experience of my life.

‘I’ve since spoken to many other bereaved families who have had similar experiences and I now know the best way to deliver those awful words is bluntly and factual, to help our brains understand without doubt, but I couldn’t bring myself to say those words to him.’

Far from being a comfort to one another, Debbie and Lissie were not able to maintain contact during the terrible aftermath of Andrew’s death.

Sadly, the two women haven’t spoken since.

Weeks later, at Andrew’s funeral at Oxford’s Christ Church Cathedral, Debbie and Phil joined the whole family to say their goodbyes.

She attended court every day throughout the four-week trial and witnessed the sickening behaviour of the three defendants in the dock. Nothing could have prepared her for the jury’s ‘not guilty’ verdict to the murder charge.

‘They were chest bumping and celebrating like their football team had won the cup, it felt such a violation and additional insult, without a shred of remorse or regrets shown towards us,’ Debbie recalls.

‘Before we know it, those responsible will be out of prison. It will be very hard for us knowing they still have their whole lives ahead of them.’

Debbie last year became a grandmother, when her younger son became a dad, an event that has been ‘profoundly healing’ for the family.

‘Our little one brings so much joy,’ she says. ‘You can’t help but smile and laugh when you’re together, it’s the only thing that has come close to true happiness in the last five years.’

There is the constant reminder, however, that Andrew, who loved children, will never get the chance to be a dad.

‘Having a grandchild feels like being given another opportunity to get it right and I want to be dependable, fun, loving and do better than I managed first time round.

‘I was unable to find the support I needed in my earlier days but, following the loss of Andrew, the charity Care of Police Survivors (COPS) – who provide support to families who have lost a family member on duty – has helped me so much.

‘I am only one mum of several who have endured the loss of a son or daughter on duty, and I do not feel alone. Andrew will be remembered for always.’

Visit birthtraumaassociation.org and ukcops.org for more information and support.