SLICED OPEN

Lucy Gotellier, 47, from Benenden, dropped her son on a school trip, but something in the sand ruined his holidays...

- HATTIE BISHOP AND ANAIS SEELY

Packing a bottle of sun cream, a fresh sports kit, and a waterproof jacket, I zipped the backpack shut.

‘Ready to go?’ I beamed at my son Alex, 12, who was ready for a week of activities organised by his school.

Missing out on a trip to France, cancelled by Covid, the teachers thought it would be a nice idea to hold a range of days for the year sevens to let off some steam.

Day one was a trip to the beach at Camber Sands, roughly 30 minutes away from us, and the next day was an aqua park course with inflatables laid out in the water.

‘Let’s go,’ Alex laughed, hopping into the car, ready for me to drop him off at school.

My daughter Izzy, eight, sat alongside him disappointed at the fact that she still had normal lessons to attend!

Handing Alex his backpack and waving him goodbye, I made my way back home on 27 June this year.

Working part-time in my office in the morning, I then turned to the kitchen to prep our evening meal.

Leaving the prepared food on the kitchen side, our dogs Percy, the Labradoodle, and Teddy, the Cavapoo, gave me their best puppy dog eyes.

‘Walkies,’ I said, reaching for their leads.

Putting on my trainers and stuffing poo bags in my pockets, it was time for the pooches to let off some energy, just like Alex would have been.

Letting them run ahead, I reached for my phone.

Only, staring at the lock screen I noticed I had a missed call and a voicemail message.

Hmm, I haven’t had one of those in a while, I thought.

So, pulling the phone next to my ear, I listened closely.

Yet, the familiar voice of one of Alex’s teachers started talking quickly after.