There had to be a way for me to get back here. There had to be.Martha stood close to me, to my left. She said, "What are you frowning about? Still sle...py?" No."She touched my arm. "Then, what?" You know." Memphis again." Can't help it."She moved to stand in front of me. "Hey. Don't think about that." She nudged her head toward the ocean. "Look at this. Isn't this wonderful?" Yes, it is."She put her arms around my neck. "But we're here, we're here now. You and me. And Ronnie. We'll never be this. This time she has the hairbrush to use as well. I felt her swivel round to pick up the brush, and I felt the flat wooden paddle head rest on my bottom. I waited in dread. Mum enjoys using the hairbrush as I can remain across her lap in a position of complete subservience whilst she inflicts greater punishment allowing her to simply employ the implement but not hurt her own hand. That means longer and much harder than her hand. I am conscious of the brush being raised but once it crashes back. More

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