Our downstairs neighbour was an old man who lived alone, and when mother went to work, I started to pop into his house for a coke or tea, with cake or...chocolate, after school.He was always asking about my mother, now a divorcee, by thirty one, he wanted to know if she was seeing anyone, and in his perverted way of conversation, when she last had a man in her bed.'You want to fuck my mother'?He stopped mid-stream, his cup shook in his raised hand, and the weak smile on his lips, indicated he had. .Before he could say anything in turn, there was a bit of a commotioninside of the house. A wine bottle fell over, and there was shouting."Who are you people? Why the hell are you all in my house?" Everyoneturned and saw a tall bespectacled brunette. While she looked young,the crow's feet on her eyes and the lines on her forehead and cheeksgave away her true age. Her modest dress of pants and a turtleneck fitneither the occasion nor the fashion trends of 1920s America."I believe we could ask. More

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