I miss my mum more than I thought it possible to miss a person. The two of us were unusually close, more like sisters, and definitely best friends. After my dad died of a heart attack when I was fifteen it was just the two of us for years. I would quite happily have stayed living at home with Mum forever, but she wanted me to go out and live my life – insisted, in fact, that I did. After graduating, when I found a job, my mum dived into her savings and helped me put down a deposit on a small two-up, two-down terraced house. But even after I moved out, I still spent several evenings a week over at her place. We’d eat dinner and watch The Great British Bake Off or Escape to the Continent.

It was Mum who encouraged me to pursue veterinary science at the local college, even though I didn’t think I was smart enough, and Mum who told me to follow my dreams, even when I didn’t feel brave enough. It’s why I’m here now – why I told Liam to rebook the honeymoon. I’m trying to move on; trying to be strong. I want to do it to honour her memory. My mum wouldn’t want me to be moping and sad and pathetic. She’d want me to pick myself up and get on with my life. Above all, I know she’d want me to be happy.

She loved Liam, too, and I comfort myself with the fact that she got to be there for the wedding. They say your wedding day is meant to be the best day of your life, but in my case, it was the best day of my mum’s life. I’d never seen her so happy; she cried through the entire service, tears splashing onto the paper when she signed her name as witness. I’ll never forget the way she looked at me when I came downstairs in my wedding dress, and how she told me I was beautiful before she walked me up the aisle at the registry office. I’ll never forget how Liam kissed her cheek and told her thank you when she put my hand into his before we said our vows. I’m so grateful that I have these memories, even at the same time that I’m furious I won’t get to make any more with her.