Shoving my phone in my pocket, I raced downstairs to find my mum Anita, 53, about to serve my favourite cheese-and-potato pie. ‘You’re not staying for dinner?’ she frowned as I headed for the door. ‘Save me some,’ I called, the delicious smell of Mum’s cooking almost tugging me back as I dashed off to meet my mates.
In the driveway, my dad David, 58, and brother Luke, then 11, were getting ready to go for a ride. Dad worked in an automotive plant and had been riding motorbikes all his life. When I was younger, he’d take me out, but now, in June 2016, I’d just turned 17 and was either at college or seeing mates, so it was Luke’s turn.
‘Off to see your girlfriend?’ Luke teased, making…