In Memory Of Mum

When tragedy suddenly struck, Abby Chilvers, 29, from London, knew what she needed to do...

- Mishaalkhan, Hattieb Ishop

As the kids tucked into their cereal, I relished the moment of peace.

It was January 2015, and just the usual manic Monday morning at our house.

I’d been rushing around, getting breakfast ready for the boys – Riley, 3, and Spencer, 1 – while my partner Jamie, 32, dozed in bed.

When they’d finished eating, it’d be teeth brushed and clothes on before I took the kids out, and got Riley’s uniform and school bag ready.

His first day in Reception class was the next day.

Or that was what was supposed to have happened…

Instead, at 9am the phone rang. It was my sister Poppy, 23.

‘Come quickly,’ she said. ‘It’s Mum.’

Poppy sounded out of breath, her voice full of panic.

Sensing that there was no time for questions, my heart began to race.

‘I’m coming!’ I said. Hanging up, I ran to wake up Jamie.

‘It’s Mum.

Something’s happened,’ I said. ‘You dress the kids,’ Jamie said leaping up. ‘I’ll find out.’ My mum Karen, 51, lived down the road from us with my sister Poppy and our youngest sister Darcey, 8.

Shoving on his slippers, Jamie was gone. I started getting the kids dressed, hands shaking.

Then, a few minutes later, Jamie called me.

‘Be prepared,’ he warned. ‘There’s a police car and ambulance outside your mum’s house.’

Rushing round there, the kids in tow, I prayed she was OK.

As I arrived, I saw Poppy sitting on the steps outside with a friend, crying.

‘What about Darcey?’ she sobbed.

I didn’t know what she meant, but judging by her face and the ambulance outside, I knew it was bad.

I rushed inside the house, saw my grandad David, 78, in the kitchen.