TRUE-LIFE
Weighed down by shopping bags, I trudged home. It was summer 1991 and, aged just 11, I was heading home to cook dinner for my mum, stepdad and three brothers.
Most days, Mum would be in bed when I got home from school.
She struggled with mental health issues.
I did the cooking, cleaning, washing clothes.
I loved school but, yawning at my desk, I'd feel exhausted.
And my stepdad was strict – whatever I did, it was never good enough.
Aged 13, in June 1994, I was taken into care.
Suddenly, I had clean clothes, hot meals that I'd not muddled through cooking myself.
My foster family were kind to
