TRUE-LIFE My son Charlie, then 17, strutted into the living room, brushed aside his long fringe and flashed me a grin.
‘Top of the morning to you, Dad,’ he quipped in his best Irish accent.
A typical Saturday morning around ours.
Charlie always had me in stitches, the funny one in our family of five.
Always winding up his younger sister Eloise, then 15, and his big brother Adam, 27.
He was so laid-back, had a good group of friends.
Charlie had just finished his GCSEs, and me and his mum Tara, 47, were proud that he’d got himself an apprenticeship as a groundsman at a local school.
Now, in July 2023, he was getting ready for his first lads’ holiday to Zante with five pals.
He’d saved up all…
