Peering into my new sister’s beautiful blue eyes, I was lost in wonder.
‘Will she stay this little?’ I asked my mum Vicky, then 30, as she cradled my little sister Lydia.
Mum and my dad Malcolm, then 36, laughed.
It was February 1984 and I was only three, but I’d just been given the most important job in the world.
I was a big sister now.
I took Lydia – who I called Lyd – under my wing.
When I practised ballet, she toddled beside me, mimicking me with her chubby little legs as I stood in first position.
Sat next to me watching Beauty and the Beast.
