Counting the number of chest compressions in my head, I pushed down on the dummy’s chest, mimicking CPR.
It was October 2014 and I was on a first-aid course for my support-worker job.
‘Good,’ the instructor said.
‘I wonder if I’ll ever have to actually use any of it, though?’ I said to my mum, Eileen, 57, later.
I still lived at home with my parents, was really close to Mum. We’d often go out for coffee, and she’d come and watch me horse riding.
A few days later, Mum was complaining of heartburn.
‘Maybe it’s indigestion,’ I said.
Thankfully, it seemed to pass.
On 13 October, Mum and I went to a horse show.
That night, my boyfriend, Peter, 27, stayed over.
But, at around 6.30am, I heard Dad,…
