The girl looks admiringly across at the swimmer in the dim light, his beautifully-developed muscles, tanned skin glistening with little beads of sweat...as he lays beside her. At this point the swimmer slowly struggles up from the bed. He fumbles the lid off a bottle on the bedside table, pours himself a small shot in a glass and drinks it down in one gulp. Then he stands bolt upright, takes a deep breath and, in a surprisingly energetic motion, dives under the bed, climbing out the other side. She also baked lots of cakes and pies for me, I should say 'us' but she always made me feel she made them for me. By the time I left primary school to move on to grammar school, I had her wrapped around my little finger. I also felt I could trust her, over the years anything I said to her she would keep in confidence and not tell my mother. As I got into my teens the arguments with us got worse, as I got bigger and stronger she had trouble holding me for the spankings and got my father to help. More

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