Hope from the ashes
Alison Cope, 46, Birmingham
Walking through our front door, a delicious sugary smell wafted towards me.
‘What you up to?’ I called to my son Josh, then 18, as he clattered around in the kitchen.
‘Ta-da!’ he announced, emerging with an iced sponge cake with my name scrawled across the top.
‘Happy birthday, Mum,’ he grinned, putting the cake on the table and wrapping me in a hug.
‘Josh!’ I beamed, blowing out the candles.
It was just the two of us, since his sister Sherelle, then 23, had left home.
Josh had
