A day best forgotten

April 15 is always a bit of a tough one for me, as it is the anniversary of the Hillsborough Stadium disaster. While I wasn't there, almost my entire family was. I was stuck in my apartment in Nancy, listening to intermittent reports of French radio, trying to capture the BBC World Service, and generally feeling shite about everything.

I only knew two people who died there - but it still is something that marks me deeply and which has left scars. So I spent today reading Peter Duck to my son, watching the rain through the windows, and trying not to remember the constant pacing in that apartment, 32 years ago.