Her face creased in amusement and tears poured from her eyes as my mum pointed to the toilet in our hotel room. ‘There’s an instructions manual and everything, Lara,’ she laughed, as I lay on the bed in fits of giggles. It was July 2013 and we’d just checked into our hotel in London for the night, to see Mum’s idol, Robbie WIlliams, play at Wembley Stadium, and Mum had discovered we had a fancy toilet with buttons and levers. For the rest of the weekend we struggled to work out how to get the lid open, which my mum Ann, 57, found hilarious.
When I, my older sister Sarah and our younger brother David were growing
