We didn't hear Kay come home that night, but she rang from the doorstep. 

'I'm here, Mum,' she said, 'we're just chatting outside.'

She'd been out with her friends, the Pink Ladies, they called themselves. 

They'd all met at the dance school Kay went to, and often met up for a drink and a chat. 

I thanked my lucky stars that my daughter was sensible and considerate.  Knowing how I worried about her, she'd always ring to put my mind at rest. 

When she did come in she said she felt a bit sick, so I took her pulse and temperature. 

Well, you can never be too careful...

'Everything seems normal.  I'm sure you'll feel better in the morning,' I told her. 

It was my husband Ray, 52, who heard to first sound of trouble. 

He'd got up for his usual 5.30am brew.  Ray's body clock always woke him up at that time, and sometimes Kay would get up when her dad did. 

'Can I have one to,?' Kay had called from her bedroom. 

The next thing, Ray was shouting. 

'Get an ambulance!' 

I leapt out of bed. 

Kay!

She was lying on the floor of her bedroom not moving. 

Ray was knelt beside her, pressing her chest, and giving her the kiss of life. 

'She's dead...' he said. 

Dead.  What was he talking about? 

I heard the words but my brain couldn't make any sense of them. 

'Mum, dad?' What's going on?' our daughter Kelly 16, asked, appearing at the door, her eyes flicking from me to Ray to Kay in panic. 

I couldn't answer.  I had not idea.  The paramedics arrived.  Ray and I could only stand there helpless while they fought to kick-start our beloved girl's heart. 

They then carried her out to the ambulance and battled some more to see her before rushing her to hospital. 

'In a daze, Ray drove me and Kelly to the hospital.  All of us too shocked to say a word.  How could this be happening?  Kelly had woken up fine.  Now our daughter was in a room with doctors and nurses fighting to bring her back to life...

When Ray had gone into her bedroom, Kay wasn't breathing.  The only sound from her was a horrible, gurgling noise. 

At last the doctor came to see us. 

'I'm so sorry...'

No! They were wrong.  They must be. 

Kay was going to be 19 the next day.  The house was full of cards and presents. 

'Kay's been dead for an hour.'

Dead from what?

The doctor explained what had happened, but his words washed over me.  Our lovely girl had died from Myocarditis, part of her heart wall was inflamed.  Kate's heart was faulty but no-one had an idea.....

Seeing her laying on that table, so beautiful but lifeless, broke my heart.  I stood sobbing over her, gently wiped one of my tears off her cold body. 

the days and weeks dragged by.  Ever one the same never-ending torture.  Everyone of us in a state of shock.  I don't know how I'd get through the next hour, let alone the life stretching ahead without Kay.  I physically craved her.  Her voice, her touch, her laugh. 

Then one day, a few months after the funeral, Kay's friend Kirsty told me something that fired a glimmer of hope in my heart. 

'I went to see a medium and Kay had a message for you.  She wants you to know she's alright and not to worry about her.' Kirsty said.  Hearing that made me feel alive for the first time since Kay died. 

I was desperate to get a message, to.  Me and Ray went to see the same medium Kirsty had been to.  She knew nothing about our loss,  I felt nervous about what might or might not happen, but also excited about haring from Kay. 

'I have a young lady who's quite forceful and has been coming through a lot recently.

'She's just passed over and is eager to talk to you. 

Forceful

.  That was our Kay, always so determined.  She'd worked so hard to pass her exams to get into university to study law.  It was her dream to become a lawyer.  A dream that would never come true now. 

'She's telling me what happened to her,' the medium said. 

'She's saying "Don't worry, Mum, I'm not marked." 

Oh my God.  After Kay had died, one of the hardest things was knowing that she'd be cut at the post mortem. 

'She says "that morning, I had a dizzy spell and chest pains before falling over backwards.  If I could have stopped it Mum I would have, but it was just like someone flicked a switch." 

Ray had been sceptical before, but not any more.  It was amazing, Kay even told the medium about my tear falling on her that day in the hospital and me wiping if off.  There were so many special and specific details about Kay and her last few days that the medium was being told. 

She described her lilac bedroom with the fairy lights and how on the morning of her funeral I'd got her ready and put lots of clothes on her and some jewellery and chains that had belonged to her old school boyfriend.  We put her favourite Winnie the Pooh toys and a red rose in her coffin beside her. 

It was so strange, a few weeks before she died Kay had said she didn't like black coffins pulled by black horses.  She thought they were so morbid.  Who would have every thought in their worst nightmares that so soon later Kay would be in a white coffin pulled by beautiful, white horses? 

Then, Kay described her funeral.  Every detail was spot on.  The coffin was carried by her ex-boyfriend and lots of male relatives.  Some of the people who'd come to say their goodbyes had to stand outside because there wasn't enough room in the church for everyone. 

'She says "tell Mum I'm still dancing and be careful when she uses a knife - she's always cutting herself," the medium told us. 

Lastly, Kay told me I was to poke Neil, her uncle and say 'that's from Kay' which were here words exactly when they were mucking about together. 

It was the most incredible experience and I came away feeling lifted and so comforted. 

Some of what the medium said didn't even make sense until the next day.  She'd mentioned a yellow rose and I hadn't really thought anything of it at the time.  but now I remembered that we'd planted a rose in the garden for Kay and it was called 'Remember Me'. 

Kay has helped me to carry on with my life without her.  I do what, through the medium, she told me to do.  I write letters to her and burn them.  I've said goodbye to her physical and said hello to her spiritual self. 

Every year we celebrate her birthday by gathering around her grave and letting of the exact number of balloons as her age.  this year it's 21. 

We're always joined by many people who knew and loved Kay.  One chap said he never thought he'd go to a party in a cemetery but we love to celebrate her birth. 

We also help fundraise for CRY - Cardiac Risk in the Young.  the money helps to buy equipment to test for Kay's condition, which has no symptoms, and treat it. 

From time to time I can feel her with me.  I can smell her perfume, or someone strokes my arm of breathes on my face as if they're close to me and I know it's Kay. 

Me and Ray still see mediums for messages from Kay. 

I know that she's not gone, she's just in another place. 

We still keep in touch with her, just in a different way now. 

And I always remember that somewhere out there, my beautiful girl's still dancing.

Jackie would like to thank the Whiteman Dance Academy for raising funds for CRY, on Kay's behalf.