Life after Hillsborough, told by the men and women who survived

When Martin Roberts returned to Halifax on the night of April 15, 1989, he wet the bed as he tried to sleep. The skies are clear, the sun is shining, the waters of the Mersey river glisten and Liverpool’s FA Cup tie with Nottingham Forest is 24 hours away: weather, opponents and a competition that steals the minds of every person sitting around a table in a side room of the Albert Dock’s Tate Gallery, transporting them straight back to the spring day when, as Martin says, “everything changed.” Five other men, each of them aged 30 or under in 1989, nod in agreement. “But, I did a lot of bad things down there…” He became a regular at a pub where he was sometimes asked about “the number of people I’d killed at Hillsborough”. “We were laughing and joking on the bus and ten minutes later, he was gone,” says Graham, who felt like he’d been given “a good hiding.” Like so many other people who nearly died in the Leppings Lane terrace, he reported for work two days later and by Monday morning he was picking up bins on the streets of Wigan. “I don’t want to do anything with my day.” Until the inquests found that supporters were not responsible for what happened at Hillsborough, Graham would sleep with the light on at night.