Simone Brinkley, 31, Harlow
Hearing the letterbox flap, I stifled a laugh at Mum’s voice. ‘Cooee! I know you’re in there!’
It was 1996 and my mum Beverley Brinkley, then 28, had her key, but loved playing this game with us.
I was 6. Me and my sisters, Tara, then 10, and Tina, 3, would hide round the corner while she pretended she was locked out.
‘Gotcha!’ Mum beamed as she burst through the door, wrapping us in her arms.
Mum was so bubbly, always making us laugh. Her big personality lit up a room, and she adored us – her precious girls.
Together, we’d go to the seaside or Mum’d fill up a paddling pool in the garden.
We’d mess around, shrieking with joy, all so happy, so close.…
