I'm not saying Lisa worries about things unnecessarily, but she turned to me in bed last night and asked if I thought Amelie had been traumatised by the events of the past week. My response was to look incredulous (not that she could see me in the dark) and ask if she'd watched yesterday's video. Frankly the girl's as happy as Larry. We're talking Larry Hagman when they told him they were bringing back Dallas. If she's not, then we have a child acting superstar on our hands. In which case, she can make millions, and spend it all on therapy.

As for Little Miss Sunshine's mother, Lisa finished her course of antibiotics this morning, and as far as we can tell, the infection's cleared up nicely. Her gums are becoming less sore, and her bruises are gradually fading. Her face looks less swollen too, although that could just be the weight loss from living on soup for a week. The mental scars will take a little longer, but I think they've begun the slow healing process too.

After a relaxing weekend at my parents', Lisa and I returned home last night, and I went back to work today. We've left Amelie at the dance studio in St Leonards for some extra training on her arm movements, so Lisa's managing to get some rest in front of Loose Women. The TV show, not her relatives.

Perhaps the best sign of recovery is that Lisa actually answered the front door this morning. It was only the electricity meter-reading man, and she admits that she spoke to him as though her jaws had been wired shut by a sadistic ventriloquist, but for someone who, only a few days ago, was convinced that we'd need to have the doorbell disconnected until she could lay her hands on a burka, it's a major step forward. It's also the first time in a week that she's spoken to a tradesman without blood pouring out of her mouth, and that, ladies and gentlemen, is progress.