She watched as he swung one leg over and then flipped a key, the rumble of the engine filling the air. She sighed; he wasn't going to take a refusal.W...th resignation she climbed on behind her son, reasoning a quick run around the block, and then she could restart her tirade about motorcycles. As her leg slid over the seat, one thing became instantly obvious; the short summer skirt she was wearing was not the best choice for a motorcycle. She felt the hem slide up her thighs, and then was. I sagged againstthe door frame like a broken doll.When I got back from the launderette the next day the accusation in mydoor had been painted over. You could still read the word where it hadbeen scored and the paint wasn't the right shade, but nothing around mematched anyway.That same day the postman delivered a parcel. He arrived just as I waslugging another load of clean washing up to Kirsty's flat. That was myfitness regime then - dirty washing to the launderette, clean laundryback up two. More

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