He's known olive farmers Bert and Jeanetta van Heuckelum since he was a kid.
He was mates with Bert's oldest son.
They were in wrestling tournaments together at primary school.
He remembers Bert and Jeanetta driving them to Coromandel. Roy was car sick. Bert had to stop the car. Jeanetta - Netty - looked after him, clearing up his vomit, making sure he was okay. He remembers how she looked after him. He was only 9.
But when he grew up, he killed her.
Now he is knocking on her husband's door.
He's not here to ask for forgiveness.
TEN YEARS EARLIER - Sunday September 28, 2008
It's 10 years since Netty and Roy crashed into each other early one Sunday morning on State Highway Two.
Netty was driving towards Tauranga to her job as a nurse at Tauranga Hospital Roy was driving towards Katikati, to his home.
Outside Apata coolstores, at 6.19am, Roy's car crossed the centre line into the path of Netty.
He had packed a bag and planned to stay over with friends. But when everyone parted ways in the early hours, he didn't go to his mates but instead made a decision to drive 30 minutes home to Katikati.
Over the years he's thought so much about that decision.
It is a decision which has destroyed so many lives, but it was based on him feeling "lazy".
"There wasn't any deliberating. It was at the time just because I wanted to go home to sleep in my own bed.
A blood sample revealed excess blood alcohol of 163 milligrams of alcohol per 100 millilitres of blood - just over twice the then adult limit of 80mg.
Roy can't even remember leaving Mount Maunganui.
He can't remember driving home.
He doesn't remember the impact because he was asleep, he says.
When his car came to a stop, and he woke, he didn't even realise he had hit anyone.
"I didn't have my glasses on, and I couldn't see. To this day I don't know what happened to my glasses. My car windscreen was shattered, and I couldn't see out of it, and my vision was blurred anyway."
He smelt smoke and could hear a car horn going off.
When the ambulance arrived, Roy was able to walk to it. He was taken to Tauranga Hospital, along the route Netty had been travelling to work.
His mother arrived at the hospital.
He didn't understand the way she looked at him.
"My injuries were fairly minor, a punctured lung, a couple of broken ribs...I didn't even know there was another person in the accident, so I remember thinking, why does she have that look on her face."
She bent down and told him he had crashed into another vehicle. She whispered in his ear, "she's dead".
"She looked after people with broken bones, some from accidents, some from surgery, and some drunk...she cared for them all the same."
In a week's time she was going to start on the maternity ward.
"The kids joked about that saying 'oh mum have you got something to tell us', and she would joke back, 'I am finished with that, I am waiting for grandkids please'."
The couple's four adult children had been staying at the family home for the past two weeks.
Each Sunday Netty would call Bert when she arrived at the hospital to make sure he was up to go to the Sunday markets where they sold their olive oils.
"It was unusual she didn't call, but I thought there must be traffic on the road.
"Sure enough, when I came over the top of the hill near Apata I saw flashing lights, so I thought, oh here we go, another accident, this is what must be causing delays."
Bert pulled up to the police cordon where he could make out the wreckage of a car...horrified to see the last digits of Netty's plate, 888. The policeman who came to Bert's window was a local.
"He told me Netty had died. I was numb. I asked if I could go to her. They wrenched the passenger door open and I sat beside her for a while. But she was gone."
The Katikati policeman drove Bert home to the olive farm where he had to break the news to the four children that their mother was dead.
"It was the hardest thing I have done in my life, and it is still the hardest thing. For me to lose my wife that is one thing, but for the kids to lose their mother, no one can replace a mother."
In court, a distraught Bert struggled to contain his emotions as he read his victim statement about the loss of his wife of 33 years, his best friend, the mother of his children.
"When will people get the message not to drink and drive?''
He spoke directly to Roy, who turned to face him squarely, and said,
"I hope this never happens to you."
Roy spent just nine months in prison.
With the maximum penalty for the charge five years, he knows in one sense his sentence is lenient.
He lobbied politicians about the road. He spoke out about drunk driving. He said cars should be confiscated, sentences should be manslaughter. He wanted a referendum on drink driving.
A Blue Light anti-drink drive presentation in 2013 united him with Roy on stage when the pair told their story to local school children.
Bert did it, not for Roy, but because he wanted people to get the message about drink driving.
They sat side by side. But they didn't look at each other.
Married, they emigrated to New Zealand. They were hard workers. They grew kiwifruit before switching to their passion, the olive orchard.
They planted their first trees in 2000. They used to work from 7am to midnight in busy times.
When not working in the orchard, Bert would sell oils at local markets. Netty was a nurse and busy mother of four.
Just before she died, they were starting to reap the rewards,
"We had a plan. She wanted to go on a cruise to Alaska. We thought we would do this for a few more years - the kids are all grown up - and then we would retire, travel, grow old together.
"You know those old people in their 80s in the olive oil advert on TV, that was how I saw me and Netty, growing old together."
Roy takes off his shoes. Bert has just vacuumed. Netty always used to nag him to do it.
"Once she came in from the hospital and said, why haven't you vacuumed, and I said, 'oh, I have been outside', and she said, 'oh, have you been outside all summer?'"
Roy laughs.
Roy plays nervously with his cellphone. He only got one for the first time in September.
"We were going to do this for a while longer, then give up."
Roy nods.
DRINK DRIVING
Bert thinks there should be more preventative measures for drink driving.
"I used to think that bigger sentences would work but that is just the ambulance at the bottom of the cliff. We need a fence at the top."
He thinks cars should be confiscated from any drunk driver,
"The prospect of killing oneself or someone else doesn't seem to stop people. If it hurts them in the pocket, maybe they will think twice about getting in a car after a drink."
"I am sorry. I am sorry for all families who have suffered because of drink driving. I am sorry for my actions. I am eternally sorry."
Bert stops spinning.
Bert says, "Netty was a tough woman, but she cared a hell of a lot about people...she wouldn't want you to destroy your life....she wouldn't want me to live with hate."
Bert accompanies Roy to the door.
Roy is on his way home to his family.
Bert is going to visit Netty in the Katikati Cemetery.