The rain was pelting down heavily, as I drove along the motorway.
It was November 2014, and I’d just dropped off my son Ethan, then seven, at school, along with two of my foster kids, and was now on my way to a meeting.
I’d been a single mum ever since Ethan was born, but that hadn’t stopped me fostering 28 children.
I liked a busy life, and believed I should always help other people wherever possible.
Now, the windscreen wipers clicked back and forth as I checked my mirrors and maneuvered into the right-hand lane to overtake a lorry.
But suddenly, in front of me, there was a huge pool of water on the road.
No chance of avoiding
