I know what it is, Mum

Plonking her school bag on the floor in January this year, my then 14-year-old daughter Amelia, slumped herself onto the sofa.

‘I’m so tired,’ she sighed.

‘Probably all that dancing,’ I smiled, picking her bag up and tidying up around her.

Amelia loved to dance and was forever pirouetting her way around the living room, but tonight she seemed wiped out.

‘You’ll feel better for an early night,’ I told her, heading off to the kitchen to get dinner ready for her and my youngest, Isabella, 10.

‘I’ve got a load more bruises too, Mum,’ she said, following me into the kitchen

Lifting up her trousers, she showed me a dozen or so new bruises over her legs.

Suddenly, there was a knock at the door

‘How’ve you managed that?’

I asked,