"My husband was a much-loved GP, who had always worked unstintingly for his patients. He was always willing to listen – to an old person’s worry, a young mother’s concern, a worrying hypochondriac or a colleague’s ideas. After devoting his life to medicine, he retired with the hope of spending more time with our four children.

After he had retired a week, we spent our first free weekend staying with our elder son, his wife and young daughter in Hereford. It had been an idyllic weekend with a long walk in the country, a memorable Palm Sunday service, a ‘lie in’ drinking tea and reading the paper – something we had not done in all our married life.

We were driving home on the Monday morning full of plans for the future and so very happy. Suddenly, from the line of traffic coming in the opposite direction, a lorry swerved across the road and hit us head-on.

There were many feelings and thoughts - from the intense pain from the impact, feeling flung around as the car was spun, to the realisation that I could hear nothing from my husband. My mouth was full of blood and broken bone, and I felt I was choking and had to keep spitting out the debris in my mouth to be able to breathe. I felt myself going unconscious, but felt I had keep conscious to keep alive and to know what was happening.

Finally in the Accident and Emergency department of the local hospital I felt my son’s hand and heard his voice. Trying to speak I asked about his father and heard, “sorry mother – he is dead”.

The grief one feels after a road crash is compounded by the knowledge that this was a sudden, violent, horribly painful death, and quite unnecessary. It is due to someone’s recklessness, negligence or incompetence, or the fact they were too tired or incapable through drink or drugs to be in charge of a lethal weapon.

Surely such drivers should be required to make some recompense to society. Also if he has not been driving safely, surely he should have to prove his competence by taking another driving test after a driving ban.

I was shocked when the solicitor said the Crown Prosecution Service (CPS) would only charge the driver with “driving without due care and attention”. I said that if the driver could not slow down and stop, it was surely dangerous driving – but he said it would be too difficult to prove.

The next problem was when I didn’t hear when the inquest was to be. Only by telephoning the solicitor could I find out.

In all the aftermath of the tragedy, I felt there was no one on my side. Caroline Williams, Jim's wife

Then I heard nothing about the trial. Finally, through the solicitor, I heard that the police had lost my address and had written to my daughter-in-law, who was now in Germany and hadn’t received the letter.

I was told there was to be a preliminary hearing and there was no need for me to be there, but later I heard – again through my solicitor – that it was actually the proper hearing and that the case had been dismissed. I wanted to know just what had been said and why hadn’t I been called as a witness.

After weeks of waiting I got a brief transcript of the hearing and was horrified to realise how the barrister for the driver had overwhelmed the magistrates with his pleas, and the solicitor for the CPS had been utterly inept and hadn’t asked any pertinent questions.

For the first time since that terrible day I felt really angry. If felt angry that the law was so useless and unfair, and angry that the magistrate had said my husband’s death was the ‘unfortunate result of an unavoidable accident’.

In all the aftermath of the tragedy, I felt there was no one on my side. The police were trying to charge the driver with a driving offence, but the death of my husband and my own injuries seemed quite peripheral. I felt I was completely ignored by the justice system and was deeply shocked by the insulting treatment of the death of my dear husband – this wonderful man."

Caroline Williams, Dr William's wife.