“And then I’d go get the strap, come back, and stand in front of him like this while he prayed for me to grow up a good girl.” Now came the tric...y part: getting him to grab my breast without seeming too forward about it. Standing on his right, as usual, I had him take hold of my left wrist, then I raised it up behind my back, the way Poppa did. “Then he’d push me forward with that hand and sort of catch my front to lower me onto his lap with his other hand.” And I launched myself forward — it. Noticing the light from the vicarage bedroom window, I walked slowly to the window, and there was the figure of Mrs Walker, undressing in silhouette. Many nights after I would wait for lights to go on, sometimes I was lucky, others not, but for years I would watch that window. One day after school, I had showered and wearing only a towel, I happened to look down from my window to see Mrs Walker cutting the garden privet hedge. She was standing on a set of stepladders inside her garden and. More

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