I knew we were in trouble when I could hear the sound of Dad’s black work shoes. The sound of clattering, of a galloping horse, as he walked up the wooden spiral stairs in our Victorian house on a dark, dark winter’s night. Home from work at eight p.m.
With an almighty push, the door of our bedroom flung open, causing the whole house to shake as if a volcano had erupted!
Sally and Ted were fast sleep, snuggled under their cosy duvet, but I was woken by a great noise – my heart pounding in my chest. I sat up in my bed, trembling like a leaf on a tree.
Was I seeing stars? Was Dad right in my face, in our bedroom? Did Dad find out about our trick of escaping out to play during the dark, on the cold winter nights?
I would soon find out!