Sobbing, I took him in my arms, kissed his forehead... As I cooked dinner, my boys chatted quietly in the next room. ‘When we grow up, we should live near Mum,’ my youngest Edvin, then 10, said to his big brother Edward, 18. ‘So we can look after her when she’s an old lady.’
Bless him!
It was late 1998, I was a single mum, and Edvin was my ray of sunshine.
He’d been born with a severe squint, started wearing glasses at three months.
But he didn’t care, loved reading, sport. Played football, tennis, liked swimming.
He was a huge Arsenal fan, and played footy for school and a local team.
Edvin was a joker, too, always ready with a quip and a laugh.
His quiet confidence made him…
