The best way to reason with Tara was always to use facts. Indisputable facts.“Well, I was looking for some scrap wood,” she offered.“What are yo... making?” Sean asked. He knew she wouldn’t have an answer, and he enjoyed watching his wife realize that she had a role in this melodrama.“That’s not the point, Sean, and you know it. The point is that they are having sex out in the open. Next door to a family with young c***dren. They could have seen the whole thing!”“Especially if they were out. I poured my soul and the love I have for the subjects into each of the pieces. I’ve never shown them to anyone, not even Zoe. They sit hidden at the back of a locked cupboard, all twelve of them.We first met one sunny afternoon in May, during my final year at college. She was an art student in her second year. At the time, I was living in Brighton with a couple of other art students. The house had been part of that year’s Brighton Artist’s open house scheme. If you’ve never heard of this, then. More

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