"I thought about that, and what had happened, and the last few years, when I had gotten mad at her and it made absolutely no difference at bath time. ...Mom, I don't think there's any way in the world I could be mad at you and do what we did last night. It would be impossible. Even if I wanted to be mad I couldn't stay that way if we were doing that." Do you know what that was?" she asked. She blushed. "I mean what we did?" It was sex, wasn't it?" I was sure ... but still nervous about being. I heard Deborah cry from beyond: ‘Sing for me, baby?’ It was part of our scenario, for me to sing in the shower, ‘Are you singing for your supper?’ she added with a certain huskiness about the sound of her voice which drove me crazy Drying myself I felt a surge – my mind saying ‘down boy, save it for later – I guess it had become part of the shower scene- like it was force of habit to see to ‘Freddy’ with wild imaginings of Deborah – but the substitute was not needed , definitely not for Freddy. More

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