My father’s voice groaned in response as I locked my fingers with his. Slowly, he lowered his lips to my ear. Nothing was said as he panted heavily,...losing himself in the friction of his boxers. “Daddy… I need you.” Begging felt so cliché but I couldn’t stop myself: not any longer. I could feel the ends of my father’s hair brush against my shoulder as he nodded slowly, sliding his hands upwards, underneath the cloth of my sleep top. The soft satin against his hands seemed to keep his hands. I quickly retreated to my room not sure if I’d been rumbled. At some point in the middle of the night I was woken by the sound of the loo flushing. It was pitch black but I became aware that someone had entered my room … it was Jenny. She sat on the edge of the bed on my right hand side and whispered … sorry Bill did I wake you? It must have been all that pop I drank; I woke up needing a wee. I mumbled something on the lines of it not being a problem. I was convinced she was going to scold me. More

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