One week I was working late shifts again and had Jeans mother looking after the kids. Joan only lived a few doors away and was happy to look after the.... She usually left as soon as I came home. This particular night she didn’t rush off. Instead she waited until I sat down with a scotch and then began to ask me what had gone wrong? What had Jean left? I told her to ask her whore of a daughter. “What do you mean?” She asked. I told her what I had been told and what Jean had said, pouring myself. ?Cradle-snatcher!? yelled one of the observers, laughing.?You shouldn?t be riding your bicycle here anyway,? she continued.?You?re endangering pedestrians.?The boy was back on his bike now. He winked at me lewdly and rode offto his mates. When she was sure no one could see her, my mother smiledat me.?I suppose we could consider that your final test, Milly,? she saidhappily. ?A boy falling off his bike at your feet!??So I can get all this clobber off when we get back home???Well, no.? She. More

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