TRUE-LIFE As I polished the worktops in the kitchen, my half-sister Carrie cheered when our fave band, Westlife, came on the radio.
Next thing, we danced around to World of Our Own, with Carrie, then 22, using the mop like a mic.
It was 2008 and, even though she was 13 years younger than me, Carrie was my best mate.
With a wicked sense of humour, she referred to me as her ‘blister’.
She also had funny names for my son Pierce, then 11, and daughter Shay, 8.
Stud and Macmac in honour of their first loves, football and McDonald’s.
Recently, during my divorce from my husband Steve, Carrie had come to stay with us.
Helped us redecorate, kept the kids entertained.
And though she moved back into her own…