. . You’re a breast man! . . I’d never have taken you for a breast man!’ she laughed, ‘I’d always imagined my bottom to be the object of you... desire.’ Again, they let her words hang in the air buoyed on the sparkling shine of her eyes as if she’d discovered the greatest secret that invisibly joined them, gently mocking the indecision in his eyes as he switched between each breast and the crease between her legs… was he expecting cerise she wondered. ‘I was concerned…’ ‘I noticed.’ ‘I thought. I worried that Mum would never hug me again without reservation. My reputation as her good little boy crumbled that day. There seemed no way to explain to her what had happened. We never spoke about it again. But after a few awkward days things slowly returned to normal. In the September school holidays of that year we went to Noosa for a week. We had separate rooms, but for two nights a friend of Mum’s came to stay and Mum offered Tabatha’s room to her and Tabatha had to sleep in the bunk. More

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