It was the early spring of 2006. Lorah-Kelly, my eldest daughter, was fourteen years old. She had just started attending a new secondary school and her life was very unsettled. Driving Lorah-Kelly and Jordan, my eleven-year-old daughter, to school each day, was really special as the Cotswolds were in full bloom and so very beautiful this time of year. Cheltenham, by comparison to London, from where we had moved, was breathtaking. We were enjoying our new home and our new life out in the country. Eric and I, along with our two daughters, had moved to Cheltenham to build a new life for ourselves. Although everything seemed to be going according to plan, we did have a slight issue in that the Cheltenham schools were oversubscribed and the nearest school with a vacancy was in the next city, Gloucester. Lorah-Kelly had no option but to go to a Gloucester school, which didn’t seem too bad at first and it wasn’t very far to travel at all, especially after the lengthily travel ti