From upstairs I hear the thump of Christmas cards hitting the doormat. Once I'd have raced down to tear them open. Now all I want is to fall asleep and wake up when Christmas is over.
As I stand lost in thought, my granddaughter Danielle slips her hand into mine. Just six years old, she's the image of her dad - same dark brown hair, olive skin and mischeivous face. “Let's see who the cards are from, Nanny,” she says and my heart sinks. How do you explain to a child that Daddy's girlfriend has killed Christmas for all of us?
Lee was one of those people who light up a room the minute they walk in. I felt proud that someone so popular and live-giving was my son. He was never ambitious, though - when he got a job driving buses he was just happy to bring in a bit of money.
You couldn't help smiling when he was around. “Must dash, Mum,” he'd shout over his shoulder as he raced out to a snooker game with his mates, or on a date with some girl. In one of my last memories of Lee, he's standing at the bathroom sink trying to shave and eat a sandwich at the same time! There was never enough time in the day for him.
I also remember how worried he looked as he told me and his dad Ray that his girlfriend, Anita Curtis, was pregnant. “It wasn't planned, Mum,” he said, “but I know I can be a good dad.” He was only 20 and money was tight but we knew his child would never be short of love.
Lee split with Anita two years later but he remained devoted to Danielle. He moved back home and set about converting our spare room for her. We all looked forward to the weekends Danielle came to stay. She'd spend hours with Lee, setting up furniture in the doll's house he'd bought and repainted for her. I'd never seen him happier than when he was with Danielle.
Then one night in October three years ago, I woke up with Lee shaking me, and babbling in my ear, ”Mum, I've met the most beautiful girl. I think she's the one.”
“Well, bring her to meet us,” I laughed, “And let me get some sleep.”
The next day he brought Tracie home. With her long blonde hair, she was certainly attractive - and knew it. As she talked about her work as a model as barmaid, I thought to myself, “She's a bit full of herself ...” Then she looked me square in the
eye and announced, “Lee and I are meant to be together. It's destiny.”
You've only just met, I felt like saying, but I held my tongue.
I watched her carefully over the next few weeks, noticing how she'd spend hours each day applying makeup. I was pleased Danielle had made friends with Tracie's four-year-old daughter Karla, but Tracie never made much effort with Danielle. She hired childminders whenever possible so she could go out with Lee.
Lee talked about Tracie constantly and within four months had moved into her flat in Alvechurch. “Aren't you jumping in too quickly?” I asked, but he just said, “I'm in love, Mum.”
Six months later he was proudly showing off Tracie's engagement ring. “Welcome to the family, Tracie,” I said, hugging her. It was time to set my reservations aside. If Lee was happy, that was good enough for me.
Then one day Lee popped into the hair salon I run with my daughter Michelle. His face was covered in scratches, he had teeth marks on his neck and he looked badly shaken.
“Who did this?” I gasped, touching his poor, battered face.
“Tracie went mad and attacked me at a nightclub in front of my mates,” Lee said sheepishly. “She accused me of cheating on her.” He said they'd been having increasingly violent rows. “She gets so jealous, Mum,” he said. “It scares me.”
“Take a break from each other,” I urged him, worried sick. But Lee just said, “No, we're going to be together for the rest of our lives.”
The following May, Tracie refused to go to Michelle's wedding and banned Lee because Karla wasn't asked to be a bridesmaid. “It's your family or me,” she warned Lee.
“I've got to stand by her, Mum,” he told me. From that moment on, I refused to speak to her.
Meanwhile, their battles continued. They'd split up, Lee would move home, then the tearful phone calls would start, begging him to come back. No matter how bad it got, he always did.
It was 3.20am on 1 December last year when Ray and I were woken by a knock. “That'll be Lee,” mumbled Ray. “Probably had a row with Tracie& ...” But it was the police.
Lee was dead, stabbed 40 times in a suspected road-rage incident.
Ray and Michelle immediately suspected Tracie, but I leapt in to defend her. “She loved Lee,” I sobbed. “She'd never do a thing like taht.” It was just their grief talking.
That night, we found Danielle standing at the window, pointing to a bright star. “That's my daddy,” she said, and I physically hurt for her.
The next time I saw Tracie was at the police press conference two days later. We hadn't spoken for months and I was shocked when I saw her, hair matted, no make-up and wild-eyed with grief. I held her trembling hand as she appealed for Lee's killer to come forward.
“No one could be that good an actress,” I insisted to Ray and Michelle.
Later that week she took an overdose of pills and I rushed to her bedside. I felt so sad for the woman who'd loved Lee as much as I had.
She turned to me, looked me in the eye and said, “I'm so sorry for what I've done.” A chill ran through me. What did she mean? She just closed her eyes and turned away.
The next day Tracie was arrested for murder, but the person I was angry with was me. I'd trusted and comforted my own son's killer! How could I have been so stupid?
Tracie's three-week trial at Birmingham Crown Court was set for 29 July, their proposed wedding date. Her face was blank as the prosecution told how she'd stabbed Lee in a violent rage, then pretended he was the victim of a road-rage killing.
When she was found guilty, I cried. I just felt sheer relief.
I feel it's our job to keep Lee's memory alive for Danielle. We tell her stories of when Lee was a little boy. We've kept a scrapbook full of photos and newspaper cuttings to show her when she's older.
Christmas used to be a special time for us, pulling crackers and playing daft games beside a mountain of presents. This Christmas we'll give Danielle a present from her daddy, but that's just for her sake. Our Christmas died for ever the day Tracie Andrews killed Lee.
As told to Amanda Walton