It was a bit cramped at his brothers, but we all got on well. Three weeks later we had our first row.
It had been raining for days, we only had an old twin-tub to do the washing in and there was nowhere to dry it other than the garden. Mick asked if he had a clean shirt, I told him he did but it was still wet. He started yelling at me "well fucking dry it then, what am I supposed to wear to work?" I told him he would have to wear something else and he said "what's your problem? my mum could get the clothes dry, why can't you?" I told him I didn't have a magic wand, like his mother did, so he hit me in the face a few times and held me by the throat in the corner of the room".