Splashing around in the water, the beach was a normal outing.
With my two brothers running around Swansea Beach, my mum, Agatha*, now 53, and dad, Carl, now 55, watched us from a distance.
We’d tend to go to the seaside quite a lot, and at age four, it was clear that I was a daddy’s girl.
‘You’re like his little shadow,’ Mum would always say.
And it was true – we had a great relationship.
Whether we were fishing or watching the TV together, I didn’t want to leave his side.
And with my mum working late or going out to play bingo, it meant that Dad had the responsibility for the night.
‘Bath time!’ he smiled.
And Dad would always try and make it a fun experience.
With floating toys and entertaining stories, I could feel my eyes getting heavier by the second – a routine that I was familiar with.
Lifting me out of the bath and plonking me on top of the toilet seat, Dad reached for the towel to dry
