“Was it before that?” she asked.“Yes. Probably from about when she was seven. Oh God help me!”“Steve, I know you accept responsibility for y...ur actions, but you can’t, or couldn’t, escape the negative influences of your mother. Your sister looked out for you from that point forward, didn’t she?”“Yes.”“And you bonded with her, tightly, from that point on. You knew, at least subconsciously what she wanted.”“I did.”“OK. Now, we start working on helping you form proper relationships with women. All. It meant the end of sunny days and warm endless evenings with the heady perfume of late summer flowers.But she did love the leaves.It was the colours, I think. All those bright reds and oranges, twisting and twirling as the breeze wafted through the trees. They were warm colours, nature's last hurrah before the cold really took hold.And, of course, they were like fire.Fire.She loved fire; loved snuggling up beside a big open fireplace, watching the flames flicker around the logs, the embers. More

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