Switching on the telly at 10.30am, it was a Sunday morning before Christmas, on 6 December 2020.
I was with my daughter, Ellie, then six.
My husband Patrick, now 35, and our eldest daughter, Isabella, now 11, were upstairs doing some tutoring online.
It was a pyjama day and Ellie was munching on her peanut M&M’s – Patrick buys the kids some sweets to have on the weekends as a treat.
‘Do you want a drink of anything?’ I asked her.
Ellie shook her head and flashed me a smile.
Walking into the kitchen, I bumbled around and tidied while I could hear Ellie
