I’m the only child of Rita Hudson nee Fletcher and Allan Hudson. My mum is an only child but grew up close to her cousins. The daughter of my grandma, Mary Fletcher, a single parent, who I spent a lot of time with. My mum played guitar and was interested in poetry and music, as am I. She tried for a baby for 12 years or more with her ex husband Jimmy McDermott. He has gone on to have two daughters. So it seems that fate wasn’t meant to be.

My mum worked with racing dogs at the race track and worked in many offices. She was a private secretary. She was a quiet, polite, caring and kind individual she had few possessions and she doted on me. She had few friends if any. We never had any visitors only social workers and psychiatric nurses. She was treated for depression and committed suicide three times. She did it just after I was born.

Her family never offered any support, we received cards but they never telephoned or visited. My cousin’s never bothered with me they were prejudice against my mother’s mental illness. She had been in and out of psychiatric hospitals throughout my childhood. I stayed with grandma as a companion and carer. She had meals on wheels. She was housebound but independent. She had two sisters, who were blonde and she was a brunette with the most beautiful blue eyes. She was very intelligent, taught herself French, was well read and loved a cryptic crossword.

She got ill when I was 15 or 16. She went into hospital and came out with dementia. She used to say it’s foggy all the time. She had a cataract but didn’t like doctors and hospitals. I got her some eye drops that I saw on This Morning TV which turned out to be unlicensed. She went deaf too. I wish I’d have gotten her a hearing aid. I used to raise my voice but I thought she’d fiddle with it because of the dementia. I visited her and mum every weekend doing both their shopping. It was difficult particularly when I was at university. I was working at an environmental charity when she died. I took time off work to look after her but my boyfriend Anthony selfishly complained.

My first childhood friend was Danielle Holt a sweet blonde thing with pigtails and a lovely smile. The second friend was Diane Shepherdson. She was ginger like me, though her hair was strawberry blonde. Knowing what I know now, I think she was probably autistic, not for me to diagnose but she was dreadfully quiet and painfully shy. I was shy too, my home life was silent. I was taught reading and arithmetic very young at about two. I excelled at school good at anything but sport. I was always chubby, had a sweet tooth, still do, what remains of them.