GOODBYE MY DARLING BOY

Sharon Myers, 47, treasures the last memories she has of her son

- ANN CUSACK, ASHLEIGH PAGE

Pulling on a blazer, my son James, then 10, grinned at himself in the mirror.

'Does it look all right, Mum?' he asked.

'Really smart and grown up,' I smiled, ruffling his blonde mop of hair.

As James disappeared back into the changing room to try on his spare shirts, I marvelled at how it felt like only yesterday that I was packing him off for his first day of infant school. Now it was 2017 and we were uniform shopping for his first day at secondary school. And he looked the part in his black blazer, crisp shirt and shiny shoes.

It didn't last long, of course. As soon as James started at school, he'd come home with grass stains on his knees, ketchup down his untucked shirt and scuffs on his shoes. He'd be in the door mere minutes before ripping off his uniform, leaving it in a pile on his bedroom floor.

'I asked you to hang this up!" I'd sigh. But I'd been through this before with my older boys Dylan, then 16, and Jack, 14. And the truth was, James was my baby - I let him get away with more than I should.

MOVIE NIGHTS

We were close, and loved spending nights on the sofa, watching scary films. In September 2019, we had one of those special evenings together after his dad Martin*, then 45, had gone to bed. I let him stay up late and we munched popcorn and sweets together as we hid behind a cushion as horror films played. Working long shifts as a carer, I always cherished spending some time with James one-on-one.

Then, a month later in October 2019, I left early in the morning for my 12-hour shift, leaving all the boys in bed. It was an ordinary school day and I expected to cycle home that evening to find the boys doing their homework in their rooms.

POLICE WAITING

But when I turned on to our road around 7pm, I saw police cars lining the street.