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**_Weeks after we’d proudly sent Greg off to uni, the police were at our door. But what they  told us made no sense. By Mandy Mackie, 63_**

Seeing my son Greg step out on to the stage alone and start singing, my mouth fell open.

‘He didn’t tell us he had  a solo,’ I whispered to my husband Colin.  
We’d recently moved to  a new village, and Greg,  six, had settled in well.  
Smiley and bubbly, Greg quickly found his feet at the village school. He’d made new friends and now, here he was performing Highland Cathedral in the end of term concert – and I couldn’t have been prouder of him.  
‘You were brilliant!’ Colin told Greg afterwards scooping him in for a hug.  
‘I wanted to surprise you,’ Greg said, grinning cheekily.  
Soon after, we went on holiday to Greece and when he spotted two women giving out flyers for a nightclub, he offered to help them.  
As he chatted with  holiday-makers, we both marvelled at his confidence.  
One thing I’d noticed about my boy, too, was that if he ever saw anyone standing alone in the playground or at  a party, he was always the first to go and make them feel at ease.  
It’s like he never wants anyone  to feel lonely,  I thought proudly.  
Over the next years, Greg continued to thrive.  
Colin helped manage the local speedway team, and when Greg was 12, he was riding as well.

I would wince as he’d zoom around the track, whizzing this way and that. But he loved it.  
Time went by so quickly  as Greg grew, and before  I knew it, he was a handsome 17-year-old lad, getting ready for his school prom.  
‘Well, what do you guys think?’ he asked, showing  us all his outfit.  
He’d opted for a bright pink and purple suit.  
‘A bit of colour cheers everyone up!’ he insisted.  
When he turned up, his teacher told him he was  the only person who could have pulled off that outfit!  
There were more celebrations when Greg secured a uni place at Edinburgh College.  
He was off to study TV and Media and we were all  so proud of him.  
At first, he commuted the  hour and a half to the campus, but then he paid for student accommodation himself after taking on two part-time jobs, although he would still nip back in the  car with his dirty washing.  
He made friends there straightaway, and I’d never seen him happier.

‘I really want to take some of the acting classes,’ he told me and his dad excitedly  on a trip back home. ‘And  I’d love to go and work in Australia for a year.’  
Then, six weeks after Greg had moved into student  digs, Colin and I were awoken by a knock on the door of our home in Moffat, Dumfries and Galloway.  
It was only 6am, still pitch-black outside, and we shook ourselves awake to  go and answer.  
On our doorstep were  two police officers, and one asked, ‘Are you the parents  of Greg Mackie?’  
When we nodded, they asked to come inside and panic began to rise inside me.  
We sat down with them and one said, ‘We’re really sorry, but your son has died of a drug overdose.’  
The words just didn’t make any sense to me.  
Colin looked straight at them and said, ‘That can’t  be right. Are you sure you have the right person? Our son has never used drugs.’

However, the officers  were adamant.  
‘He was found in his student room,’ explained  the officer.

Still, we just couldn’t connect what he was telling us to our boy.  
In order to apply for his uni place, Greg had filmed  a short documentary on the dangers of drugs.  
Plus, we’d always raised the kids to be open and honest about everything, so why would Greg suddenly start keeping us in the dark?  
It just wasn’t him.  
The officers said they had no further information, but would be in touch again soon, and then they left.  
I collapsed in tears.

It was left to Colin to begin telling our family, starting with Greg’s doting big sisters – my daughters from a previous relationship – who were heartbroken.  
We’d sent our 18-year-old off to uni for the first time, and just two months later, he was dead. And as we tried to get our heads around that, only one thing made sense.  
‘Someone must have spiked his drink as a prank,’ I said.  
‘A prank that went badly wrong,’ Colin added.  
Everyone we spoke to  who knew our boy said the same thing.  
It was two more weeks before we were allowed to see him, and even then all we were allowed to do was stand behind the glass partition of a hospital morgue.  
Finally, once the post-mortem examination was completed, we were able  to visit him at the funeral parlour. There I got to give my son one last cuddle.  
Soon after, it was confirmed Greg had five ecstasy tablets in his system when he died – an amount even hardened drug users wouldn’t take.  
‘The only explanation for this is that his drink was spiked,’ Colin and I insisted to the authorities.     
But we still had no answers as to what had happened when we were finally able  to hold his funeral – the day before my birthday.  
We asked mourners to wear purple, Greg’s favourite colour.  He always said it gave him hope for the future.  
Over 500 people attended, with more listening in outside as the strains of Highland Cathedral – the song he had sung when he was six years old – filled the crematorium.  
Afterwards, the police investigation continued.  They took more than 70 statements, some insisting that Greg had been drinking.  
But the toxicology report confirmed there was no alcohol in my son’s system  at all. The only thing he had drunk that night was cola.  
After a year-long inquiry, the police decided to close the case, classifying it as a non-suspicious drugs death.

When we insisted Greg had been spiked, social-media trolls commented we were simply in denial. But no one knew our boy better than us.  
We went to organisation after organisation with our belief about what had happened. But there had been no one to help us, so we created our own charity, Spike Aware UK.  
Our hope was that no other family would have to go through what we did without any support.  
We’ve spent the last eight years raising awareness of spiking.  
According to official figures, one in nine people have reported being spiked – and who knows how high the real figure is?  
We’ve set up a helpline for victims and their families. The youngest person we’ve helped was just 11, the oldest was 82.  
This year, Greg would have turned 26, and it still seems totally wrong that he’s not here with us.  
As far as we are concerned, we continue to not know how Greg lost his life.  
Our charity relies on donations from the public, and every single penny goes to creating awareness.  
We visit schools, colleges, pubs, anywhere we can, warning people to cover  their drinks and never leave them unattended.  
We tell them to watch out for their friends as well, and to alert authorities if they witness anyone attempting  to spike someone.  
Recently, Colin gave evidence to Parliament, helping to shape new legislation on spiking, which will come down harder on the perpetrators.    
There’s not a day that we don’t miss our precious boy.  
Now, we’re determined to keep his legacy alive and  get comfort from the fact  that even in death our son’s helping others.

• Superintendent Joanne McEwan from Police Scotland said, ‘We continue to thoroughly investigate reports from people having been spiked. Every report is taken seriously, with extensive enquiries carried out, and where perpetrators are identified, they are dealt with swiftly and robustly.’

• For information or to donate visit spikeawareuk.org

Our son died after someone spiked his drink with ecstasy – Now we’re fighting for change

**_Cherene Robertson’s therapy horses might be small – but their impact is mighty_**

A hand reaches out and touches a soft, warm face. At once, the atmosphere changes. The room seems brighter  and there’s a feeling of joy in the air.

It’s all thanks to a sprinkle of magic delivered by a very special team of bliss bringers, known as the Hoof Gang.  
Luna, Bubbles, Eeyore and co are used to bringing comfort and support to people in their hour of need. But they are no ordinary therapy workers.  
They are part of Lunar Eclipse, a non-profit organisation that’s dedicated to helping people thrive by connecting with horses.  
It’s the brainchild of Cherene Robertson from Stirling who started Lunar Eclipse after seeing the uplifting effect these gentle animals had on those around them.  
Cherene, 53, has been horse-mad her whole life.

She says, ‘For as long as I can remember, I’ve been obsessed with horses. Mum and Dad got me riding lessons aged five, and I was lucky enough to have my own ponies.’  
But it wasn’t until years later that she turned her passion into her purpose.  
Six years ago, she was attacked at work which forced her to give up her job. At the same time her daughter was diagnosed with a chronic health condition.  
‘I was feeling lost,’ she says, now. ‘Then a friend who worked for Riding for the Disabled suggested I retrain as an Equine Facilitated Learning (EFL) practitioner, a professional who uses horses to help others develop personal skills.’  
Mulling it over, Cherene then spotted an advert online for a black and white gypsy cob called Luna, and she realised she’d found her calling.  
She says, ‘I told my husband Moray and he bought Luna for me as a present for our silver anniversary. It seemed extravagant, but he said that he wanted me to be happy again, to get a chance to explore this new avenue  and to show what I was capable of.’  
As soon as Luna arrived, Cherene knew she’d made the right decision.  
She began her EFL training and started practising on friends and their children.  
‘From the start you could see the effect Luna had on people,’ says Cherene. ‘I added an “r” to her name and Lunar Eclipse EFL Therapy Horses was born.’  
Right away, Cherene wanted the horses to be accessible to all.

She says, ‘There were so many people I wanted to reach – like those in hospices and care homes.’  
And she quickly realised she couldn’t do that with a full-sized horse.  
She’d soon recruited miniature horse Bubbles.  
Shetland ponies Eeyore and Smarties, plus more miniature horses, Apollo, Daisy, Robyn, Teddy and Marina, came hot on their hooves.  
‘The horses might have been small,’ Cherene says, ‘but the effect they had was enormous.’  
One of their first successes was with a boy called Conor.  
‘We visited his school,’ says Cherene. ‘At the time he had really limited speech, but that night he went home and said, “Horses! Horses!’’ It was the first time he’d told his parents anything about his day at school, so his Mum got in touch.’  
Lunar Eclipse has now been working with Conor, eight, for two years and Cherene says the change in him is incredible.  
‘His communication skills have massively improved,’ she explains. ‘He knows all the horses’ names and Bubbles and Luna are his absolute heroes. Luna gives him swan cuddles, where she tucks her head and neck round him!’

Another child helped by the hoof gang is Ellie who was struggling at school until her new friends helped her gain confidence.  
But it’s not just kids feeling the equine love.  
‘We’ve spent time with the Chelsea Pensioners and visited countless care homes,’ says Cherene. ‘Just the smell of the horses can bring back happy memories, even for those suffering with dementia.  
‘One man recalled as a boy riding the butcher’s cart, pulled by a horse named Ginger. Another remembered getting a clip round the ear as a child for stopping on the way back from the corner shop, to share their apple with a horse in a field!’  
One particularly special service is providing end-of-life support.  
Cherene says, ‘Apollo has a habit of seeking out the person who really needs him. We were in the foyer of a care home one day when he pulled me towards a certain room.  
‘A staff member gave us permission to go in, so I introduced myself and Apollo to the man in the bed, who agreed we could visit.

‘With that, Apollo snuggled right into the crook of the man’s neck and just breathed on him. The man said he’d never felt so at ease and asked if we’d come again, which we did.’  
The man, named Stuart, was already receiving palliative care, and it wasn’t long before the home called Cherene to say that he didn’t have long left.  
‘They asked if I’d bring Apollo to be with him at the end,’ she recalls. ‘Sadly, although I rushed straight there, we didn’t make it in time. But we paid our last respects, Apollo resting his chin on Stuart’s chest.’  
They were then given the great honour of accompanying Stuart on his last journey into the crematorium.  
‘When the staff at the  home talked about how  much Apollo had meant to Stuart at the end, I could hardly hold it together,’ says Cherene.  
Now she’s hoping to reach yet more people, and the Hoof Gang is expanding. Another Shetland, Molly Moo, has joined the crew and  with Henry, a full-sized Arabian cross, that takes the gang to 11.  
‘I want even more people to experience the incredible healing potential of these animals,’ says Cherene. ‘Horses are such spirit animals. They pull you through anything. Whatever you’re going through, just being beside one makes you feel better.’

• To find out more about Cherene and Lunar Eclipse visit gofund.me and search ‘Support Lunar Eclipse Scotland's Healing Therapy Horses’.

Love thy NEIGHbour! The mini horses spreading joy, calm and courage…

**_Inspiring Rumeysa is always reaching greater heights…_**

Standing with the trolley in the supermarket, strangers turned to stare at me.

‘Don’t mind them,’ my mum Safiye soothed.  
And, in truth, I was getting used to the looks.  
At six years old, I stood at 5ft 6in tall.  
When I was born at 32 weeks, my parents noticed I was bigger than the other babies.  
I weighed 13lb and was 59cm long.  
After tests, I was diagnosed with Weaver’s syndrome – a rare genetic disorder that caused excessive postnatal growth and skeletal issues.  
It was a randomly occurring condition and no one else in my family had it.  
Weaver’s syndrome also caused me to have health complications, like a hole in my heart, umbilical hernia and scoliosis, so I needed multiple operations.  
As I grew, I towered above my two older siblings.  
I was home-schooled and while I had a supportive family, at times I still felt self-conscious.  
My clothes had to be made by a custom tailor and my shoes by an orthopaedic expert.  
Even my bed was custom-made.  
I used a wheelchair or walker to get around.  
Then at 17, I came across a news story about the tallest girl in the world.  
Wait a minute, I thought. I’m taller than her!  
So, I put myself forward for a Guinness World Record.  
The adjudicator had to stand on a chair just to measure me…  
As she pulled down her tape measure, she grinned.  
‘You’re 7ft 0.09in tall, Rumeysa,’ she beamed. ‘I can officially say you’re the world’s tallest female teenager!’  
I was thrilled.

My height was measured three different times, just to be sure.  
Then, my record was confirmed and I was presented with a certificate in a presentation with my family.  
‘We’re so proud of you!’ Mum cheered.  
To be awarded that at such a young age was an amazing achievement.  
I’d always been shy and struggled to make friends.  
But becoming a part of the Guinness World Records family opened up a whole new world  for me.  
I found others with extraordinary traits, just like me.  
It was empowering.  
One time, I met Jyoti Amge – the world’s shortest living woman – who stands at just over two foot tall.  
As she looked up at me, and I towered over her, we couldn’t help but laugh.  
‘We’re total opposites!’ I chuckled.

Although my height can be an obstacle too…  
A few years ago, I was able to fly on a plane for the first time in  my life.  
Turkish Airlines installed a stretcher over six seats, across three rows so I could fly from Istanbul to San Francisco.  
While I was there, I went to a festive maze – with Christmas trees even taller than me.  
This is so magical, I thought as I made my way around.  
It was amazing to finally travel to other countries, something most people take for granted.  
More recently, I was awarded the record for the world’s tallest woman – at a height of 7ft 0.7in.  
In total, I have eight world records – including longest back (female), longest finger (female), largest hands (female) and widest hand span (female).  
My records have really boosted my confidence.  
Now, I’m a speaker and an activist.  
I raise awareness for rare disabilities and conditions – and I hope to make a difference across the world.  
Mine has made me who I am and, for that, I’m always proud.

The SKY’S the LIMIT! Meet the world’s tallest woman

**_All I wanted was to have a baby. But what would my dream end up costing me?  By Sophie Forbes-Perry, 43_**

Gazing at the waves lapping against the shore, I made a wish.

Please, I thought, please let it happen.  
For the last two years, my husband Simon and I had been trying to start a family without success.  
Now, as I headed for 40, I’d started to worry it might not happen at all.  
We’d gone on holiday to Thailand to try to relax and unwind, but having a baby was my dream and it was all I could think about.  
Then, when we got home, I made an amazing discovery.  
‘It’s finally happening!’ I said to Simon, barely believing it. ‘You’re going to be a dad!’  
We were overjoyed.  
I was so happy I didn’t even mind when morning sickness struck and I had my head over the toilet bowl.  
At nine weeks, we booked an early scan, excited to get a glimpse of our longed-for baby.  
But as the sonographer swept the scanner over my tummy, she said, ‘I’m just going to ask for a second opinion.’  
My heart sank.  
I knew it wasn’t going to be good news, but it turned out to be devastating.  
There was no heartbeat.  
I’d suffered what was known as a missed miscarriage. The pregnancy had ended but there’d been no obvious signs of bleeding.  
I had to have surgery to remove the foetus and it was an awful time.  
Nine months later, though, I said to Simon, ‘I’m ready to try again.’  
This time it took us three months to fall pregnant and once again we booked another early scan.  
The sonographer peered at the screen and said, ‘I don’t know what I’m looking at.’

Then came the words we’d been dreading.  
‘I need a second opinion.’  
I glanced at Simon anxiously.  
When the sonographer returned, I braced myself.  
I was having what was called a molar pregnancy. The baby and placenta had not formed, because of a problem with the fertilised egg.  
I had been pregnant at some point, but now only tumours remained in my womb.  
Again I had to have surgery to remove them, but a week on I was still being sick.  
‘I don’t feel right,’ I said to Simon.  
I was given antibiotics but they had no effect and I needed scans and blood tests.  
Then I saw a consultant who said, ‘The tumours have come back.’  
I didn’t know what that meant so, back at home in York, I did some research  and what I read left me reeling.  
I discovered that the cells left behind by a molar pregnancy could continue to grow and become malignant.  
I had another operation and days later my phone rang at home.  
It was the hospital.

I knew they wouldn’t have rung unless it was urgent and, as I answered the phone, I said, ‘It’s cancer, isn’t it?’  
‘Yes,’ the doctor replied.  
I was numb, but I managed to phone Simon.  
‘We’ll get through this,’ he said.  
Doctors told me I was suffering from gestational trophoblastic disease, a rare condition which caused abnormal cells or tumours to grow in the womb during or after pregnancy.  
In most cases the tumours turned out to be benign, but mine weren’t.  
Getting pregnant had given me cancer.  
Still reeling from the loss of the baby and the cancer diagnosis, I began chemotherapy.  
It made me feel so ill, but I was relieved to hear that the cancer had not spread to any other organs.  
But the consultant warned me, ‘Best not to get pregnant for a year in case there’s a risk of recurrence.’  
By then, I was 41 and mindful of time slipping by.  
Simon and I had been struggling to conceive for four years but, despite the heartache we’d suffered, I wasn’t ready to give up.  
So we waited for a year and then I had a round of IVF, and an embryo was implanted.  
But during a scan at 10 days, the sonographer again called for a second opinion.  
The doctor explained that the quality of the embryo wasn’t good, and it looked more like a cyst.  
It was one blow after another.  
I’d suffered a miscarriage, a molar pregnancy, cancer, a year-long wait to try again and now the IVF hadn’t worked.  
Yet, even then, I still had hope.  
The doctor told us we might have success with a donor egg so we gave that a go and I was overjoyed when I began to have bouts of sickness. Even brushing my teeth made me gag.  
But when I did a pregnancy test, the result was negative.  
I was so confused.  
‘I don’t understand,’ I said to my doctor. ‘I’ve got morning sickness but no baby.’  
It turned out I’d lost the baby very early on because the embryo had not developed.  
There had been a baby but now there wasn’t.  
Now we had to make a decision to try again or accept the fact we’d never have a child.  
‘Enough’s enough,’ I said to Simon. ‘We’re both worn out.’  
He agreed.  
It was time to start living  a different life from the one we’d planned and I became an ambassador for The Cancer Treatment and Research Trust, an organisation committed to  the research and management of rare cancers.  
I also want to set up a group for couples who are childless for whatever reason.  
I’ve gone through heartbreak, but it’s made me strong and I’m determined  to use that strength to help others.

  
**_• For more information visit heartandsoulwithsophie.co.uk and cancertreatment.org.uk_**

The CRUELLEST twist: I desperately wanted a BABY, but what would my dream COST me?

**Issue 01 2026:** Page 15 Picture Pointer = Hexagonal

**Issue 02 2026:** Page 15 Picture Pointer = Fragrant

**Issue 03 2026:** Page 15 Picture Pointer = Perilous

**Issue 04 2026:** Page 15 Picture Pointer = Astrology

**Issue 05 2026:** Page 15 Picture Pointer = Delighted

**Issue 06 2026:** Page 15 Picture Pointer = Nectarine

**Issue 07 2026:** Page 15 Picture Pointer = Idealistic

**Issue 08 2026:** Page 15 Picture Pointer = Collaborate

**Issue 01 2025**: Page 15 Picture Pointer = Fantasy

**Issue 02 2025**: Page 15 Picture Pointer = Appendix

**Issue 03 2025:** Page 15 Picture Pointer = Flattery

**Issue 04 2025**: Page 15 Picture Pointer = Mixture

**Issue 05 2025**: Page 15 Picture Pointer = Express

**Issue 06 2025**: Page 15 Picture Pointer = Crystal

**Issue 07 2025:** Page 15 Picture Pointer = Anecdote

**Issue 08 2025**: Page 15 Picture Pointer = Mythology

**Issue 09 2025:** Page 15 Picture Pointer = Ceremony

**Issue 10 2025:** Page 15 Picture Pointer = Motivating

**Issue 11 2025:** Page 15 Picture Pointer = Perfume

**Issue 12 2025:** Page 15 Picture Pointer = Bejewel

### What the stranger said next saved Kerry’s life…

Walking into the dining room of the care home I worked in, I made a beeline for the kettle.

I was about to make a cuppa for an elderly resident, but her daughter was hot on my heels.

‘I don’t mean to be cheeky but are you alright?’ she asked, gently.

‘When you were helping my mum, I noticed you had a really big lump on your neck,’ she said.

She told me her relative had had a similar lump and been diagnosed with thyroid cancer.

‘I don’t mean to scare you, but you should get it checked out,’ she said.

My mum Carol and her two sisters had all been diagnosed with cancer at around my age – almost 30 - too.

_Could history be repeating itself?_ I fretted.

After booking a doctor’s appointment, I developed strange symptoms.

‘It’s as if my brain needs a couple of seconds to tell me to swallow,’ I told the doctor.

I was referred for a biopsy, which I had two weeks later.

A busy working mum to Aiden, 11, and Harley, six, that helped keep me distracted while I waited for the results.

Eventually, three months later, I walked nervously into hospital.

There, I received the news I’d been dreading.

‘We’ve found a 6cm lump, and you’ll need surgery and radiotherapy,’ the doctor said.

Deep down, I’d already known, but hearing the ‘C’ word aloud felt shocking and strange.

Afterwards, dazed, I walked to the hospital café.

I sat quietly, trying to breathe, and broke down in tears.

All I could think was that I was going to die and leave my kids without a mum.

Calling my partner Steven, I could barely get the words out between sobs.

‘Everything will be fine,’ he soothed.

Though I tried to shield the children, Aiden guessed something was wrong.

I realised I’d have to tell them, which was hard.

‘Don’t panic love, but I have cancer,’ I said, explaining I’d have surgery to remove it.

Meanwhile, I told my daughter, just six, that I was poorly, but I was going into hospital to make me better.

For a while, anytime I was feeling unwell, Aiden would worry I was going to die.

Finally, five months later, I was taken into theatre for surgery to remove half of my thyroid gland.

Only, five hours later, the surgeon declared it had been a success.

But at my check-up two weeks later, there was bad news.

‘We think the cancer could have spread to the other half of the thyroid,’ he said.

And when he said I’d need medication for the rest of my life, I crumbled.

I felt broken and betrayed by my own body. I wasn’t ready to admit this was how life would always be.

The thyroid gland had so many vital functions, such as producing hormones that controlled bodily functions like heart rate and body temperature.

Without it, I’d need lifelong hormone replacement therapy.

After successful surgery, I had to stay in a room for a week to have radiation treatment to mop up any tiny cancer cells that may have been missed.

It went well, but it took a toll on me - not just physically, but mentally.

My family and medical staff were so supportive.

Now, I’m grateful to be here and that I get to experience the simple things, such as my son and daughter starting new years at school.

And I’ll forever be thankful to that stranger for speaking up.

**_By_** _**Kerry Morrow, 32, Glasgow, Scotland**_

‘She Pointed at My Neck… Then My World Changed Forever’

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Closing date for issue 37 is midnight 5th October 2026. Only one entry per person, per issue for our competitions.


<div class="competition-form">
  <form action="https://competitionform.bauersecure.com/formhandler.php" method="post" accept-charset="UTF-8" name="competition-form" onsubmit="return validateCompetitionForm()">


        <input type="hidden" name="brand_code" value="TAB" />
        <input type="hidden" name="issue_number" value="TAB2637" />
        <input type="hidden" name="channel" value="web" />


        <fieldset class="competition-form-details">
          <legend>Your Details</legend>
          <div>
            <label for="first_name" required >First name</label>
            <input type="text" id="first_name" name="first_name" value="" size="40" maxlength="128" required autocomplete="name fname" />
          </div>
          <div>
            <label for="last_name" required >Last name</label>
            <input type="text" id="last_name" name="last_name" value="" size="40" maxlength="128" required autocomplete="name lname" />
          </div>
          <div>
            <label for="email" required >Email</label>
            <input type="email" id="email" name="email" value="" size="40" maxlength="128" required autocomplete="email" />
          </div>
          <div>
            <label for="phone">Phone</label>
            <input type="text" id="phone" name="phone" value="" size="40" maxlength="128"  pattern="[0-9 \+]{10,}" autocomplete="tel" />
          </div>
          <div>
            <label for="address_1" required>Address: Building and street</label>
            <input type="text" id="address_1" name="address_1" value="" size="40" maxlength="128" required autocomplete="shipping address-line1"/>
          </div>
          <div>
            <label for="address_2">Address: Area</label>
            <input type="text" id="address_2" name="address_2" value="" size="40" maxlength="128" autocomplete="shipping address-line2"/>
          </div>
          <div>
            <label for="city" required >Address: Town or city</label>
            <input type="text" id="city" name="city" value="" size="40" maxlength="128" required autocomplete="shipping address-level2"/>
          </div>
          <div>
            <label for="state">Address: County</label>
            <input type="text" id="state" name="state" value="" size="40" maxlength="128" autocomplete="shipping address-level1"/>
          </div>
          <div>
            <label for="postcode" required >Address: Postcode <sub>(UK: Please include space. ROI: Please enter Eire)</sub></label>
            <input type="text" id="postcode" name="postcode" value="" size="40" maxlength="128" required pattern="([a-zA-Z0-9]{2,4} [a-zA-Z0-9]{3,4}|[eE][iI][rR][eE]) ?" autocomplete="shipping postal-code"/>
          </div>
        </fieldset>
        <fieldset class="competition-form-answers">
          <legend>Competition Answers</legend>


          <fieldset>
            <legend>Page 3</legend>
            <div>
              <label for="112127">10 x £20 4-Squared</label>
              <input type="text" id="112127" name="112127" value="" size="40" maxlength="128" />
            </div>
          </fieldset>


          <fieldset>
            <legend>Page 5</legend>
            <div>
              <label for="112117">10 x £20 Mega Snap</label>
              <input type="text" id="112117" name="112117" value="" size="40" maxlength="128" />
            </div>
          </fieldset>


          <fieldset>
            <legend>Page 12</legend>
            <div>
              <label for="112097">£1000 Big Bonanza</label>
              <input type="text" id="112097" name="112097" value="" size="40" maxlength="128" />
            </div>
          </fieldset>


          <fieldset>
            <legend>Page 14</legend>
            <div>
              <label for="112017">2 x £100 And Then Sum</label>
              <input type="text" id="112017" name="112017" value="" size="40" maxlength="128" />
            </div>
          </fieldset>


          <fieldset>
            <legend>Page 14</legend>
            <div>
              <label for="112057">2 x £100 Now 4 Something Different</label>
              <input type="text" id="112057" name="112057" value="" size="40" maxlength="128" />
            </div>
          </fieldset>


          <fieldset>
            <legend>Page 20</legend>
            <div>
              <label for="112037">2 x £100 Find The Money!</label>
              <input type="text" id="112037" name="112037" value="" size="40" maxlength="128" />
            </div>
          </fieldset>


          <fieldset>
            <legend>Page 22</legend>
            <div>
              <label for="112067">£1500 Big Relax</label>
              <input type="text" id="112067" name="112067" value="" size="40" maxlength="128" />
            </div>
          </fieldset>


          <fieldset>
            <legend>Page 28</legend>
            <div>
              <label for="112047">2 x £100 Code Breaker</label>
              <input type="text" id="112047" name="112047" value="" size="40" maxlength="128" />
            </div>
          </fieldset>


          <fieldset>
            <legend>Page 38</legend>
            <div>
              <label for="112027">2 x £100 Question Time</label>
              <input type="text" id="112027" name="112027" value="" size="40" maxlength="128" />
            </div>
          </fieldset>


          <fieldset>
            <legend>Page 42</legend>
            <div>
              <label for="112087">Devon Break</label>
              <input type="text" id="112087" name="112087" value="" size="40" maxlength="128" />
            </div>
          </fieldset>


          <fieldset>
            <legend>Page 44</legend>
            <div>
              <label for="112137">2 x £100 Picture Pointer</label>
              <input type="text" id="112137" name="112137" value="" size="40" maxlength="128" />
            </div>
          </fieldset>


          <fieldset>
            <legend>Page 46</legend>
            <div>
              <label for="112077">10 x £20 Starscope</label>
              <input type="text" id="112077" name="112077" value="" size="40" maxlength="128" />
            </div>
          </fieldset>


          <fieldset>
            <legend>Page 47</legend>
            <div>
              <label for="112147">2 x £200 Supermarket Spree</label>
              <input type="text" id="112147" name="112147" value="" size="40" maxlength="128" />
            </div>
          </fieldset>


          <fieldset>
            <legend>Page 50</legend>
            <div>
              <label for="112107">£7,250 Big Cash Stash</label>
              <input type="text" id="112107" name="112107" value="" size="40" maxlength="128" />
            </div>
          </fieldset>


        </fieldset>
        <fieldset class="competition-form-optins">
          <legend>More Competitions, Offers and News</legend>
          <div>
            <input type="checkbox" id="brand_opt_in" name="brand_opt_in" value="true" />
            <label for="brand_opt_in">Opt in to Take a Break Competitions, Offers and News alerts (You can opt out again at any time)</label>
          </div>
          <div>
            <input type="checkbox" id="group_opt_in" name="group_opt_in" value="true" />
            <label for="group_opt_in">Opt in to Bauer (publisher of "Take a Break") Competitions, Offers and News alerts (You can opt out again at any time)</label>
          </div>
          <div>
            <input type="checkbox" id="partner_opt_in" name="partner_opt_in" value="true" />
            <label for="partner_opt_in">Opt in to Partner Competitions, Offers and News alerts (You can opt out again at any time)</label>
          </div>
        </fieldset>
        <fieldset class="competition-form-legal">
          <legend>Competition Terms & Conditions</legend>
          <div>
            <input type="checkbox" id="terms_and_conditions" name="terms_and_conditions" value="accepted" required />
            <label for="terms_and_conditions" required >Tick to confirm that you have read and accepted our <a href="http://www.bauerlegal.co.uk/competition-terms.html" target="_blank">competition terms and conditions</a></label>
          </div>
        </fieldset>
        <input type="submit" name="submit" value="Enter" />
    </form>
</div>



I stayed at The Grafton Hotel in the heart of Dublin with my husband and our two young sons, Odhran, 11, and Reuben, 8, for two nights, mid-week in August.

It's located in the bustling heart of Dublin, but as we stepped through the front doors of The Grafton Hotel, we were greeted by a surprising sense of tranquility. The lobby of this stylish, four-star, Art Deco-inspired hotel, features velvet sofas in teal and pale yellow, alongside disco mirror pillars, and modern pendant lights hang from a high ceiling, creating a bright and airy space. We inhaled a pleasing custom signature scent as we made our way from the entrance, past an inviting café towards the check-in desk. The lobby spills into the adjoining Bartley's Bar & Restaurant, an elegant but cosy space that offers a more eclectic decor of dark woods and richly coloured upholstery, alongside copper and brass light fixtures. An outdoor terrace, offers guests the chance to sip a coffee or a cocktail and watch the world go by.

We stayed in a :a[family room]{href='/api/v1/web-embed/proxy?proxyUrl=https%3A%2F%2Ftakeabreak.co.uk%2Fholidays%2Ftake-a-break-holidays%2Fcarden-park-hotel-review-the-cheshire-destination-that-made-us-rethink-how-we-holiday-with-kids%2F&mode=full' } that had a super king bed and bunks. The room was really spacious and had a large bathroom with a powerful rainfall shower, fluffy white towels, and premium toiletries. But there was also a separate room with a toilet - a great consideration for family rooms, where everyone is trying to get ready at once.

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