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Byline: SIMON CARR

SIMON CARR'S struggle to bring up two sons singlehandedly after the death of his wife from cancer has been made into a film, The Boys Are Back, starring Clive Owen. But how did his sons cope in a chaotic all-male household with no mother to enforce the rules? Here, for the first time, Alex and Hugo give their side of the story. Alex, who was five when his mother died, is now 20 and at studying at university. He says: UPON A half-remembered platform at an un-remembered hour, I stand at the age of five holding my loving mother's hand.

We're waiting for the arrival of my father's train and I listen intently to her instructions: 'When you see Daddy, I will let go of your hand and I want you to run as fast as you can towards him.' When I finally spot him, that's exactly what I do, leaping into his arms as Mummy approaches, smiling, to escort us, her family, to the car. I am a muchloved little boy, on my way home.

Fast-forward a few months though, and I am walking into my parents' bedroom to find my mother lying on the bed, apparently asleep. I have been told that she has died, but as I take a seat on the large blue sofa opposite her bed, I'm not at all sure what is Tiffany Flower Ring supposed to happen next. All I know is that yesterday I had a mother and now I don't. Who will hold my hand on that train station platform now? Who is going to buy me things, spoil me, swing me by the arms into breaking waves, cook for me, nurse my injuries? Sliding off the sofa, I lie, cheek down, on the bedroom floor, palms at my side, eyes locked open. I can't remember who found me, but to this day I still remain that inert five-year-old boy, lying on his mother's bedroom floor without a mother to comfort him.

In the weeks and months that followed, my father never spoke of his grief. Instead, he would have these unfathomable mood swings. But at Parmigiani Replica Watch the time, of course, I had no idea why. He also started saying 'yes' to everything when my mother's instinctive reaction would have been 'no'. Our family format quickly decomposed into something far more adolescent.

There was no longer any need for shoes, for instance. I ran about the garden barefoot. And all the structure and routine my mother swore by went out of the window. The house was messier as a result and my diet was far less healthy (Mum was always the one that made sure I ate my five-a-day).

Back then we were living in a rambling, isolated house in New Zealand. Dad and I had amazing adventures together and lots of fun. The very wildness of my home life was half the reason why I hated school so much. Compared to the freedom I enjoyed when I was with Dad, waking up at such an unreasonable hour and having to put a uniform on felt so boring, so routine. I felt like Mowgli being forced to leave the jungle every morning.

My half-brother, Hugo, from my father's first marriage, soon joined our little merry band -- his boarding school was nearer to our house than his mother's, so he came to us every weekend.

We quickly became very close. I can remember an afternoon spent locked away together under the staircase eating cat food, just to see what it tasted like. And evenings in the park when Dad would track us down with a search light in a game we used to call 'hide and screech'.

There were no rules, and in this all-male world, fear and danger simply didn't exist. Instead, we assessed our own risks, so it's not surprising that my school friends used to love coming round to our place, even if their mothers didn't approve.