I had an idyllic childhood - the best, loving family, good friends, beautiful woodland to play in in a picturesque village with quaint cottage sweetshops in the Staffordshire Moorlands in the UK. The only shadow over the scene was illness - always there, and Fate had a vicious blow to deal.
In 1967 when I was just twelve years old, my mum was diagnosed with breast cancer. Following a mastectomy she received treatment for the rest of that year and into the next. The outcome wasn't what we hoped for however and we lost her in February 1968.
Someone at school told me about ouija boards. Desperate for contact with my mum my sister and I tried it. We were successful and it gave me my belief in the afterlife, a theme that is present in some of the novels I've written since.