Leah Bridge is still struggling to navigate life without her son Albie after he was sadly killed in a heart-wrenching accident involving a farm vehicle being operated by his father Neil Speakman.
The tragic incident took place at a yard next to a small garden area at the front of a farmhouse on Bentley Hall Road, Walshaw. Albie Speakman would stay at the farm on alternate weekends, and was dropped off by his mum, Leah Bridge, in the morning of July 16.
It was around 9am when Leah encountered Speakman, her ex-partner, at the farm entrance to hand over Albie. Before coming back to the farm at 11.45am, Speakman took his son out to run some errands. Once home, Speakman carried out some tasks around the farm while Albie enjoyed playtime in the garden, tossing sticks for the dogs.
As his father manoeuvred a telehandler shifting bags of woodchip, an unimaginable tragedy struck. With Speakman at the controls, he drove forward, positioned the forks of the machine down and reversed, feeling a thud – something he later recounted to jurors as feeling like hitting a “brick”. The terrible reality hit when he saw Albie’s legs.
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In a panic, Speakman carried his son inside frantically. Albie was swiftly taken to Royal Manchester Children’s Hospital but sadly did not survive the day. That fateful day is etched in the hearts of those who cherished him; his family continues to grapple with the pain as they seek to piece their lives back together.
Speaking with Manchester Evening News, Leah revealed her ongoing torment and how she is trapped in a loop of grief, reliving Saturday, July 16, 2022 over and over.
Over the last two-and-a-half-years a lot has changed for Leah, in July 2023 she welcomed her second son, Ebon, but Leah found herself unable to look at him, because she feared that Ebon might strongly resemble Albie.
The 31 year old mother, through tears, confided, “It just feels like it happened yesterday,” expressing a sense of suspended time, her mind unable to progress beyond the tragedy. She agonises over the unknowns—Albie’s last sights, his thoughts, if he felt fear—anguished by not being there in his final moments. There’s not a day where I don’t think about it. I’m still there and I have to be without him now forever.”
The distraught father faced trial at Minshull Street Crown Court, confessing to breaching the Health and Safety at Work Act, acknowledging he had not done enough ‘to ensure the health and safety of Albie, so far as is reasonably practical. ‘ However, he pleaded not guilty to gross negligence manslaughter.
The court witnessed a tearful Speakman as he explained that the event was nothing short of a ‘tragic accident’. He expressed remorsefully: “I messed up, I made a mistake. It’s one bit of human error for a split second which has ruined my life.”
The court was informed that the telehandler involved in the incident was faulty, with a report stating that it failed to meet the minimum standards set by the Construction and Use Regulations. The report also highlighted that it was predictable that individuals near the vehicle could be harmed or killed while it was in operation.
The prosecution’s case was that Albie died “as a result of his father’s negligence, which created a serious and obvious risk of death”. Speakman was cleared of gross negligence manslaughter by jurors. He was told by a judge ‘all options are open’ when he faces sentence for the health and safety breach he admitted.
In an emotional interview following the court hearing, Leah expressed her heartbreak and disappointment with the verdict. “I feel as though Albie has been let down. I’m so disappointed. It’s hard to explain. I don’t even know where I go from here.”
The trial may be over, but Leah continues to relive the events of that warm summer’s day repeatedly. She recalled: “I always got there early so we could sit in the car and mess about or talk or whatever. We would always say ‘bye’ in the car. I would drive to the end of the farm lane because it wasn’t really accessible for cars. His dad would come back and pick him up.
“I just said ‘bye’… I don’t really remember. I was going about doing business, I was at mum’s house and he [Speakman] rang me up. He was crying. It’s a bit of a blur, I can’t really fully remember it. He was saying something like ‘it’s Albie, it’s Albie’. I just knew there was something drastically wrong. He said ‘you need to come to the hospital’. The first thing I said was ‘is he alive? ‘. He said ‘no, he’s dead… he’s dead’.
“I thought it was a joke. Me and my mum thought it was a joke. I was driving to the hospital… all the way there, I was saying, ‘he’s joking, it’s a sick joke’. When I got there, the road was taped off… there was police. I knew it wasn’t a joke.”
Leah, a nursery practitioner at the nursery Albie attended, said the hours, days and weeks that followed were a blur. She eventually left her job as she was unable to bear the constant reminders of her son – including a star on the wall in his memory. Though she has since returned to work, she still can’t bring herself to enter that room.
“It just didn’t feel real,” she added. “Everything stopped for me, but everything carried on for everyone else. I didn’t go back to work. Where I worked, Albie went to nursery, I was in the same room as him. I couldn’t. There’s a bench in the garden called Albie’s Buddy Bench, it’s in his room – the toddler room. They bought a star for him and it’s on the wall. I try not to go in there.”
Albie, remembered as a joyful and playful little boy who loved adventures, the beach, and anything circular like balls and doughnuts, is deeply missed by his mother, Leah. Following her son’s passing, Leah moved from Bolton to Radcliffe to be closer to where Albie is laid to rest at Radcliffe Cemetery.
In the immediate aftermath of his death, Leah found it impossible to disturb any of his possessions, including the bowl of cornflakes left uneaten from the morning he passed away. His items have since been meticulously vacuum-packed and stored in the attic, kept just as they were. Leah finds solace in carrying one of Albie’s jumpers with her at all times.
She shared her coping mechanism, saying: “You just have to exist, don’t you? What else are you going to do? Die? You don’t have a choice but to get up and go to the shops to get your shopping. You just have to do things to keep existing. I work six days a week. I don’t do anything… I try and keep myself distracted. A few months back, I was working seven days a week. I had four different jobs – day shifts and night shifts. I just need to keep myself busy.
“Then I feel guilty because I’m not spending time with Ebon. He always comes to the cemetery with me. It’s something I think about – how do I tell him one day? Or does he already know because he goes to the cemetery with me? Albie would be six this year, but he’s three. Sometimes I think ‘It’s his birthday, would I buy him a Blippi toy?’. But he would be six, so he wouldn’t even like that. He’s stuck at three. Albie is Ebon’s big brother, but soon Ebon will be three, and then Ebon will be four, and Albie will still be three. It doesn’t make sense.”
Leah does her best to stay strong for her son Ebon, now 19-months-old. “I struggle to leave him with anyone. When Ebon’s dad has him, I’m constantly texting him. I want pictures of him, I’m asking him what he’s doing every five minutes. I’m just so anxious. He’s the sole reason why I keep going.”