It was snowy outside but the sun was streaming in through the windows and the doors of the coal-burning stove were standing open, making the room feel warm and cosy in the light of the flames. At moments like that I loved our family life, just the three of us together and safe from the outside world in our own home. Eager to maintain the peaceful mood and keep Dad happy I stood up to clear away our plates after eating, thinking I was being a good girl, when something caught my attention on the television. As I watched the screen my concentration slipped for a second, my hand tilted without me noticing and some grease slid off the plate onto the carpet. Dad saw it first and bellowed at me, startling me so much I froze on the spot and the grease continued to flow, making him even angrier, as if I was deliberately disobeying him. The tranquil mood of a few seconds earlier vanished forever as he leapt from his chair and came at me in a fury, throwing me round the room like a rag doll, sending the plates smashing in all directions, making the mess a hundred times worse.
