Rushing through the door with her tan and beautiful nails, it wasn’t long before I got a warm hug.
‘Mum!’ my daughter Courtney, then 23, shouted, before giving me a kiss.
Then she’d do the same to her brother Harry, now 13.
Even though Courtney had moved out to live with her daughter Lily, now three, in Kettering, the next town over, there wasn’t a time when we weren’t in contact.
Courtney was my soulmate, my rock… my everything.
I had always liked to call her my baby girl.
Having her at 15, my relationship with her dad wasn’t good, so it was just us.
Going on cinema trips, feeding the ducks at the park and meeting loved ones for days out, Courtney loved being surrounded by family.
And when it came to going to school, Courtney always cared for other people – especially her best friends PJ and Shan.
PJ became a
