The finish line
Lifting my body over the side of the swimming pool, a splash of cold water drenched my head.
‘Cheeky!’ I cheered as my husband Kevin, now 52, glided around the water looking innocent.
Our children Amy, then four, and Luke, then one, with armbands and inflatables in the water.
It was a scene of pure bliss.
We had all gone to the South of France for a short break, in August 2008, before heading home for the return of work.
Changing into a different swimming costume each day – I couldn’t get enough.
Only, coming home, the holiday blues started to kick in.
Amy was having introductory lessons before starting primary school fulltime, so there was a lot of toing and froing during the day.
Getting changed in the morning, I put my T-shirt on as normal.
Yet, there
