Martine McCutcheon and her mum, Jenny Tomlin, used to be joined at the hip, but a sudden death in the family led to a devastating breakdown. Now heartbroken Jenny is desperate for a reconciliation. “There was nothing she didn’t include me in,” says Jenny. “We did all the wonderful stuff – the premiere of Love Actually, the restaurants – but the memories I cherish are of us just sitting on my bed, bringing up old memories and laughing. I miss that.”

Their relationship started to fall apart after the tragic death of Martine’s brother Laurence John – known affectionately as LJ – in 2022. He was just 31. Jenny says she suffered an emotional breakdown and pushed Martine away. Jenny, 69, wants to apologise to Martine, 49, for cutting her off, she reveals in an exclusive interview with OK!.

“When I lost LJ, I detached. I was so heartbroken I couldn’t talk to Martine,” she says. “There was no big row – Martine tried to contact me for months, but I didn’t answer. Martine was grieving and needed me, too. “I want the chance to say sorry. I miss her so much – it physically hurts.”

Jenny and Martine did meet once, briefly, last October, but it wasn’t the reunion she hoped for. “Martine texted me out of the blue,” says Jenny. “She’d moved into a new home and wondered if my husband Alan could do some painting. “We jumped at the chance and went over, but we didn’t talk in depth. It was awkward and the atmosphere felt heavy.”

There was vague talk of Christmas plans, but nothing was confirmed. That, Jenny says, was when the silence truly began. Reflecting on another high-profile rift that has made headlines, Jenny says: “I understand the pain Victoria Beckham is going through over her estrangement from Brooklyn. He was her firstborn, too. It’s a heartbreaking situation for anybody who is estranged or has lost their child.”

Recalling the pain of losing LJ, Jenny’s voice cracks. “It’s not the natural order to lose a child.” But Jenny realises the mistake she made “broke” Martine’s heart. “Eventually, I did pull myself out of that dark hole, but maybe it was too late,” she says.

Recalling the day LJ died, Jenny says she got a phone call from his fiancée, who said he’d collapsed and they couldn’t revive him. Still in her pyjamas, Jenny drove the hour and a half from her home in Aylesbury in Buckinghamshire to LJ’s by the Essex coast – but it was too late.

“My precious boy was on the floor, wrapped up. I remember saying, ‘It’s OK to open your eyes now, son, I’m here’,” she says, tearfully. “They’d worked hard doing CPR on him, but couldn’t bring him back. “It was like a nightmare. I couldn’t believe my boy was gone.”

An autopsy revealed that LJ – who didn’t smoke or drink – had succumbed to acute ischaemic heart disease and diabetes. Jenny rang Martine from the scene, but was so distraught her daughter had to speak to paramedics to find out what had happened. In the early hours, Jenny drove to Martine’s.

“She looked at me and realised I needed looking after,” Jenny says. “She’d prepared the spare room, stroked my hair, gave me a cuddle and, somehow, I slept.” LJ was laid to rest on 31 October 2022. After, Jenny says her life went “down a deep, dark pit”. She says, “I was seen by a mental health team and given anti-anxiety meds.”

Martine, who played Tiffany Mitchell in EastEnders from 1994 to 1998, was 15 when LJ was born and Jenny recalls how she became a sort of surrogate mum to him. Following LJ’s death, Jenny was paralysed by anxiety, and suspects this is at the heart of why she hasn’t seen her daughter or grandson, 10-year-old Rafferty, in so long.

“I didn’t contact Martine,” she says. “I abandoned her. I was so wrapped up in my own grief that I was neglecting my other child. That was the start of it, and things just… snowballed. And here we are.” Jenny, an author of novels and memoir, including Behind Closed Doors about the abuse she suffered as a child, says she’s reached out to Martine recently – calling, texting, sending cards – but claims she has had no response.

Just weeks ago, after a moment of clarity, Jenny and Alan drove the 90 minutes to Martine’s house in Surrey. “I was banging on the door shouting her name,” she admits. “But nobody answered. So I gave up, got in the car and drove home distraught. I turned to Alan and said, ‘I don’t think she’ll ever speak to me again’.

“That’s why I’ve done this interview as a plea for Martine to get in touch.” In the last couple of months, Jenny feels more like herself and has started writing a memoir about LJ. But her guilt over Martine remains. “I let Martine down. There’s not a day goes by when I don’t think of her.

“Losing Rafferty has felt like another death,” she says. And her love for Rafferty has inspired Jenny to write children’s books, which she hopes to dedicate to him.

When Martine’s 18-year relationship to musician Jack McManus broke down last year, she and Jenny weren’t in contact. And it’s not something Jenny is willing to discuss. “That’s between Martine and Jack,” she says.

“I don’t think I’ll ever stop trying when it comes to my girl. If I could speak to Martine, I’d tell her how sorry I am. I’ve lost one child, I don’t want to lose another.”

Next year, Jenny turns 70. The greatest gift anyone could give her would be to share a cuppa with her daughter, while her grandson plays in the garden. “I’ve seen what silence does to families,” she says. “I don’t want that for us. I don’t want to be another story of regret. I want us to love each other. To find our way back.”

‘Trauma doesn’t always look like tears’

Grief expert Tina Chummun, Person Centred Trauma Specialist Psychotherapist of Care2Counsel, says of Jenny’s situation: “When a mother loses a child, especially in a traumatic or unexpected way, her nervous system can become overwhelmed – we often see intense grief manifest as numbness, withdrawal or cognitive collapse.

“If you are grieving the loss of one child, and in that shattered fragile state, couldn’t show up for the other. From the daughter’s perspective, her mum may have seemed to disappear just when she needed her most, creating a rupture that now feels insurmountable.

Tina adds, “For a mother, emerging from that fog years later and finding the door closed can feel like experiencing a second bereavement – the living grief of estrangement as though she’s lost both children. Rebuilding trust starts with accountability, patience and time..”

“Trauma doesn’t always look like tears – sometimes, it looks like silence behind closed doors. The bridge back is built slowly, with humility and hope. Vulnerability can be the bridge that grief once burned.”