24/08/2026
A Message To Members from our Chair Lauren Somerville.
Good afternoon everyone.
I wanted to speak directly to you, our members.
There has understandably been an enormous amount of national interest in what happened to Matt and Tom. I’ve had lots of requests to speak publicly about it.
But before I speak to anybody else, I wanted to speak to you. Because you are my priority.
At the centre of everything are Matt and Tom, and two families whose lives have changed forever. I’ve had the privilege of speaking with both families, and I will carry those conversations with me.
More than anything, I want them to know and I want you to know that we will be there for them for whatever comes next.
Our Secretary Carl Baker was called out in the very early hours on Saturday morning and I received the call from Carl at 5:44. It brought me to my knees.
I went straight to Force Headquarters, and I don’t think I’ll ever forget walking in there that morning. People looked shell-shocked and frightened. These were my colleagues. This was our force. Two of our officers weren’t coming home.
Trying to navigate those first few hours, before the rest of the world woke up and understood what had happened, felt surreal. There were meetings and discussions. Tears and hugs. Ideas and instructions. Phone calls, emails, radio messages and text messages.
But amongst all of that, one thing became very clear, very quickly.
How do we get through this together?
And that’s where I’ve been ever since.
I’ve spoken with our senior leaders throughout the days and nights. I spoken with officers and asked what they need and what might make things even slightly easier.
We’ve talked about the big things and the tiny things that might ease some of the burden and we’ve asked for help. Because everything here is new.
Weve never had to lead our members through anything like this. Carl, Jon and I don’t have a handbook for it. We don’t have all of the answers, and there will probably be things we haven’t thought of yet and there will be things we miss and things that aren’t quite right, So I need you to tell us.
If there’s something that would help you however big, however small tell your rep, tell me. If we can do it, we will. And if we can’t, we’ll do everything we can to find somebody who can.
And I want you to know that Cleveland isn’t doing this alone.
I’ve genuinely lost count of the calls and messages I’ve received from around the country.
Federation branches, other unions, officers, reps, people I know and people I’ve never met, all asking essentially the same thing:
Tell me how to help?
We’ve had such an overwhelming response from people offering to help that we’ve asked Federation reps from outside Cleveland to come here and support us. People hundreds of miles away, who never knew Matt or Tom and may never have met any of you, care about what has happened here. The policing family has wrapped itself around Cleveland.
And inside our own force, I’ve seen exactly the same thing. I’ve seen people stepping forward without being asked. I’ve seen colleagues checking on each other. I’ve seen people quietly carrying somebody else when they couldn’t quite carry themselves.
And I need to tell you how proud I am of you. Not because you’ve carried on regardless. I don’t want anybody thinking that’s what they have to do. I’m proud because even while people are hurting, everywhere I look I see somebody looking after somebody else. I have never felt more privileged or proud to be a police officer and I’m honoured to be part of this police family.
Grief in policing is difficult to put into words. When you have shared a career with someone, when you have stood beside them at jobs, sat with them in briefings, laughed with them in the parade room, trusted them, relied on them, and understood parts of each other’s lives that people outside this job may never fully see, the loss lands in a different way. However you are feeling, and however this is affecting you, it matters.
My focus always is you.
I can’t promise that I know exactly what the next few days, weeks or months will look like.
I don’t.
I can’t promise that I’ll always have the answer.
But I can promise you this.
I’ll turn up.
I’ll listen.
I’ll tell you the truth.
I’ll make sure your voices are heard.
Matt and Tom went to work.
They should have come home.
They didn’t.
We keep turning up for one another.
And we get through this together.