The Dilemma

The Dilemma

By BarBar

 

Dilemma (noun): a situation in which a difficult choice has to be made between two or more alternatives, often when the possible outcomes are equally undesirable. (synonyms: quandary, predicament, conundrum)

 

Gareth Chancelor is a family man with strong feelings about the rightness and wrongness of certain actions. His wife, Estelle, has begun acting strangely and this is worrying Gareth. His two daughters, Jennifer and Bonnie are caught in the middle. This leaves Gareth with a dilemma. Their attempts to resolve the situation results in a unique arrangement within the family. This creates another dilemma for Gareth. How will he navigate his way through the resulting chaos?

 

Tags: MF sex, Incest, Spanking, Humiliation. The activation of these codes are a minor part of the story, but the concepts are referred to often.

 

 

© 2019

 

 

Note: This story is one of several that are set in Emmerdale, which is a fictional country town in northern New South Wales, Australia. It’s inland of the Great Dividing Range and near the Queensland border.

 

The stories, for the most part, are not connected. Despite that, some characters appear in more than one story.  The different Emmerdale stories vary in style and tone.

 

Knowledge of the other Emmerdale stories is not necessary to read and understand The Dilemma. It is intended as a purely stand-alone story.

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 1: Gareth Chancelor, Thursday Evening

 

I sighed with relief as I finally pulled my car into our garage and switched off the engine. It had been a long, long day at work and I was exhausted. I picked up my briefcase and started walking.  A button on my key-chain locked the car doors. I started the automatic garage door closing and heard it clanking and rattling behind me as I walked around the path to our front door.

 

I let myself in and I immediately found myself wrapped in a tight hug. Estelle took my briefcase out of my hand, replaced it with a glass of wine and started leading me further into the house.

 

“Finally, you’re home. I’ve been waiting forever. Have you eaten?  Come through to the bedroom and take a shower.  I’ve laid out your suit on the bed.”

 

"My suit? What's going on?"

 

I didn't get any further before Estelle talked over me about getting clean and dressed up. I sipped the wine and let her lead me. Estelle was rubbing herself against me as she walked and talked. She was wearing a nice dress and had her hair up in a bun. She was looking damn fine! I was simultaneously pleased and concerned. I was pleased because she was clearly in a good mood and had made an effort to look good for me. I was concerned because I didn't know what was going on. I'm not too fond of surprises and I was hoping she wasn't pulling some stunt.

 

Except it was obvious that she was pulling some stunt – and I don’t like surprises.

 

Estelle's been a bit more erratic than usual lately – pulling various things out of her hat that left me irritated or confused or angry. Not that I really complained about them at the time but her various stunts were wearing away my patience. On the other hand, she hadn't lost her appetite for sex. After twenty years of marriage, to have a wife still eager for that was wonderful. From listening to men talk, my Estelle is something of a rarity.

 

To be honest, I suspected it was the sex that was holding our marriage together. I still loved her but her attitude toward me had been getting more and more overbearing to the point where her bossiness was turning into bullying as far as I was concerned. I’d tried talking to her about her attitude numerous times but nothing I said seemed to have any effect.

 

And yet, for reasons I can't explain, I still loved her. And, as far as I could tell, she still loved me. I could even see that from her point of view, a lot of her bossiness was trying to get me to do things she thought would be good for me. So, for the most part, I went along with what she wanted without complaining.  And we still had days when she would flirt with me and I would flirt with her and this would go on until we were both horny enough that we had no choice but to go into our bedroom, lock the door to prevent unwanted interruptions, and get it on like it was our first time.

 

So, despite my tiredness, it was obvious that on this particular night Estelle was as horny as I've ever seen her. It was also obvious that she wanted something else from me as well, but I couldn't discern what that was. Clearly she was dressed up, and her running dialogue was making it clear that I was expected to clean up and get gussied up myself. Beyond that, I had no clue and her continuous diatribe hadn't given me enough hints.

 

Finally she paused for a breath so I cut in.

 

“You knew I’d be getting in at this time. I told you about this meeting a week ago. I had some sandwiches a couple of hours ago so I’m not starving, but I wouldn’t say no to something more. A shower sounds wonderful, but I want to say hi to the birthday girl before I do that.”

 

I stopped in front of my elder daughter’s room, resisting Estelle’s attempts to drag me past it.

 

“Hey Jen! Are you in there?” I called. “I’m home! Can I come in and give you a hug?”

 

“Hi Daddy!” she called from inside the room. “Don’t come in! Go get clean first. I’ll see you in the dining room.”

 

“Oh,” I tried to hide my disappointment. “Okay, Jen. See you soon!”

 

The door opposite Jen's room was closed. "What about Bonnie? Is she sleeping? I want to check on her."

 

Estelle ground her teeth in frustration, but I have my own priorities.  I eased Bonnie's door open and peeped inside. A night light allowed me to see the small lump in the bed. It didn't move as I opened the door. I walked quietly over to the bed. Bonnie's face was relaxed in sleep. With her slightly rounder face and light brown, almost blond hair, Bonnie takes after me more than her mother. She Iooks so similar to the way Maggie, my elder sister, looked when she was ten that sometimes we look at photos and confuse the two if there isn’t any context in the photo. I smiled down at Bonnie for a moment, then I stooped and lightly kissed her temple. I turned and left the room, pulling the door closed behind me.

 

"Now tell me what's going on," I said to Estelle.

 

"Can't you stop making a fuss and do this one thing?" she wheedled. "Have a quick shower and put your suit on. Then we're going to the dining room."

 

I stopped resisting and let Estelle drag me down the hallway and into our room.

 

“The dining room?” I said to Estelle. “I didn’t think we were doing anything like that tonight. I promised Jen I would take us to Emmerdale Club on Saturday evening.”

 

“We know that, Gareth, and we’re all looking forward to it. But today is Jen’s actual birthday so we had to do something. It’s a light meal because I knew you would’ve already eaten something. Now shower and change. Please?”

 

A short time later I was feeling a little revived by a very quick shower and the glass of wine. I got all spiffed up as quickly as I could and soon I was walking back down the hallway with my beautiful wife on my arm. She did a double-tap on the door of Jen’s room as we walked past but otherwise kept up a little stream of small-talk about her day and our neighbours and her day at work and so on and so forth.

 

The dining table was set out nicely with the good cutlery and our best plates. The table is the type you can take sections out of, or add extra sections to, depending on how big you want it. It was in its smallest mode so the three of us could sit comfortably around it and reach each other without having to stretch. Covered dishes sat on the plate warmer on the sideboard, waiting to be served. Candles cast flickering light on a vase filled to overflowing with the flowers I’d sent for Jen earlier in the day. Music played softly in the background.

 

The whole thing was too romantic for words.

 

Not being born yesterday, I quickly figured out my role and held out the chair for Estelle to sit. Then I took my seat and told her how wonderful everything looked while we waited for the girl of the moment to arrive. After what was obviously a carefully planned pause, Jen appeared in the doorway and posed with the biggest smile on her face.

 

I stood up and took a moment to admire her. Jen has inherited her dark brown hair colour from her mother. She usually wears her hair loose, dangling straight down her back. Tonight, her hair was up in a similar style bun to her mother’s and the makeup was minimal but carefully done.  She was wearing a long slinky dress in a kind of mid-blue colour. It left her shoulders bare but didn’t reveal too much of her cleavage. It was held up by those spaghetti strap things. There was a slit up the left side of her dress that revealed an extraordinary amount of her long and finely toned left leg – particularly given the way she was currently posing.  The heeled strappy shoe things she was wearing looked new and expensive. I knew exactly how expensive because I’d seen the charges from the shoe store appearing on the credit card account a couple of weeks before, but I’d pretended not to notice.

 

“Wow! You’re looking gorgeous, Jen. Breathtaking! Happy birthday.”

 

I went over and we hugged each other tightly. I kissed her lightly on her lips and then she tucked her face down so she could squeeze me even more tightly.

 

“Thanks, Daddy. Thanks for the flowers and for my present. Sorry about not coming out when you got home.”

 

I’d started getting ‘Daddy’ about three months ago. I wasn’t complaining. For the previous five years it had sometimes been ‘Dad’ but mostly ‘Hey’ or sometimes ‘Father.’ And if she was cross with me, I'd be lucky to get a grunt. So I was happy to take ‘Daddy’ any time it was offered.

 

“You smell lovely, honey. I get why you hid from me before. It would’ve ruined your big entrance. I’m not even slightly upset. It was worth the wait.”

 

She practically glowed with happiness. She leaned back in my arms so she could look up at me. Her heels meant she didn’t have to look up as far as I was used to. To be honest, I'm not sure I was used to her being a teenager and here she was, rapidly approaching the other end of her teen years.  

 

Then she reached up and planted a kiss on my lips.

 

“Thanks, Daddy. I love you so much.”

 

I took Jen’s hand and led her to the table. I held the chair for her as she sat gracefully. It looked like she’d been practising. I was so proud of how mature she’d become.

 

I went to the side table and picked up the bottle of wine that was waiting for me. I poured each of us a glass of wine. Estelle served the meals – which simply involved carrying them from the sideboard to the table and removing their covers.

 

I looked at the full glass of wine in front of me and decided to only have a few sips or I'd be sleeping face down in my food. I was exhausted but holding it together for this special moment for my darling daughter.

 

Estelle made a toast to Jen, and we all clinked glasses and sipped. Jen made a toast to us, thanking us for being her parents and helping her get to this point in one piece. We clinked glasses and sipped again, then we started eating. As Estelle had said, it was a light meal, but it hit the spot perfectly. Jen hardly ate. She seemed halfway between excited and anxious about something. I got her talking about her day and her plans for the party with her friends the following night. I’d been involved in the planning so I already knew most of it but there were a few details that were new. She told me which of her friends were coming – I knew them all from previous visits including the occasional sleepover. Only one of her regular friends, Hannah, couldn’t make it because of a sport commitment. I suggested she invite Hannah over for dinner some evening next week as a kind of consolation thing and Jen thought that was a great idea. In other words, the whole conversation over the meal was pretty normal dinnertime chat.

 

We finished eating and sat around the table for a short time as we continued our chat – mostly between Estelle and Jen as I was starting to flag again. The wine and food were having their predictable effect on me after such a long day. The chat stayed fairly light-hearted and could probably be best described as small talk. At one point, without any direction, the three of us got up from the table and took the dishes through to the kitchen where we scraped and stacked the dishes in the dishwasher. The routine was well-practised and familiar. The chat continued without interruption and I was happy to work quietly with them and listen to them talk. I was tired but happy.

 

When we finished, Jen hugged me and planted another kiss on me.

 

“I’m off to get ready for bed, Daddy. It’s getting late. Thanks again for everything.”

 

I made the right sort of noises and watched as she wafted out of the kitchen.

 

I turned to Estelle. “I’m going to bed as well. It’s been a long day.”

 

Estelle hooked an arm through mine and walked with me. “Bed sounds like a great idea but your day isn’t quite over yet.”

 

“Ah!” I said and nodded.  

 

Getting all prettied up seems to act like an aphrodisiac for Estelle. I’ve benefited from that quite a lot over the years.  Our marriage hasn't been all smooth sailing, but those problems have rarely interfered with the bedroom. As I said before, even after all these years, I have no complaints about our love life.

 

I did consider begging for a pass tonight given how tired I was, but then I figured that if I didn’t make love to her straight off, she would be restless and difficult all night and I really, really needed some uninterrupted sleep.

 

A short time later, I was propped up on the bed, clad only in my boxers. I watched with delighted eyes as Estelle emerged from the bathroom, wearing one of those see-through things that only exist to be admired and then taken off. When I first got married, I was puzzled why anybody would pay so much for something that hardly gets worn. Then I discovered the joy of slowly peeling something like that off my wife. Then I discovered how Estelle reacted when I slowly peeled something like that off her. After that, I wasn’t puzzled any longer.

 

Money well spent in my opinion.  

 

I smiled at Estelle and shook my head. “Baby, it’s just as well I’m lying down. My knees have gone so weak, I know they wouldn’t hold me up.”

 

She smiled a crafty sort of smile and put on an American accent straight out of the movies, “Baby, you ain’t seen nothin' yet.”

 

Then she reached out an arm towards the bathroom and out stepped my daughter, Jen, wearing an identical outfit.

 

My jaw dropped and my brain stopped functioning.

 

Talk about being blind-sided.

 

The outfit was completely see-through, barely there and sexy as hell – and it was wrapped around my beautiful daughter.

 

Jen took her mother’s hand and the two of them posed together for a moment. Both of the women had let their hair out and now it hung in waves that washed down over their shoulders. The two of them stood together with their similar hair and similar outfits and similar bone structures – they looked more like sisters than mother and daughter. Estelle had an almost fanatical devotion to keeping fit and trim, while Jen's active sporting life and teenage constitution kept her there with much less effort so physically they were almost identical

 

We aren't a particularly body-shy family, but this was definitely the least I’d seen Jen wearing for quite some time. She had seriously matured since then and I was in no doubt that my daughter was now a grown woman.

 

I guess it was a measure of my tiredness and confusion and perhaps even my innocence that I sat there enjoying the show, but it didn't occur to me what was coming next.

 

“Hi Daddy!” Jen’s voice was soft and trembled slightly.

 

“Doesn’t she look gorgeous, baby?” said Estelle in a breathless kind of voice.

 

I gulped and nodded. “Breathtaking!” I whispered.

 

The two of them moved and started slinking onto the bed, crawling up on either side of me.

 

“Um, what?” I managed to say.

 

“It’s my birthday present, Daddy,” Jen’s voice still trembled, but maybe not so much.

 

She lay down beside me with her face next to mine. Her hand hovered for a moment over my stomach and then lowered slightly until her fingers just brushed my skin, and then they stopped.

 

“It’s the thing she wanted most of all,” whispered Estelle from my other side. “So I’m giving you to her for the night. Baby, you’re going to make love to our beautiful girl.”

 

Finally my brain started to function. The erection I'd started developing when Estelle first walked out of the bathroom had started drooping again when Jen walked out. Those words let out the pressure completely as I fully deflated.

 

Now Jen was lying next to me with those big eyes gazing into mine and that luscious body spread out on the bed and my body was saying no just as much as my brain was. Me have sex with Jen?

 

Every single part of me was screaming "No!"

 

For all my adult life I've heard talk about men who want to have sex with their daughters. I've never understood it. Often I dismissed it as talk designed to puff out their chests more than any real desire. My daughter is a gorgeous, sexy, beautiful, vibrant young woman.  She has a body to die for.

 

But that’s the same body I watched being born, that I cradled in my arms, that I bathed and changed, that I kissed away the booboos and the tears, that I helped chase butterflies around the garden, that I’d sat with through endless dolls tea-parties, that I taught to swim, to read, to drive.

 

Jen was the one that taught me the true meaning of joy.

 

Every fibre of my being was devoted to keeping her safe and happy. But to have sex with her? The sheer concept has always made my skin crawl.

 

And here I was being offered that very thing that so many men seemed to fantasise about and I was the absolute opposite of aroused.

 

But Jen was right there, looking adoringly into my eyes. Waiting breathlessly for me to begin making mad and passionate love to her. I was so exhausted that I could hardly think straight. And I felt trapped. I was frozen in total shock.

 

I knew that Jen loved me. But this? Wow! This I never saw coming.

 

This is why I hate surprises. If I'd known this was coming I could have thought out what to say, what to do – like, maybe, not come home at all. But I'd had no clue – none. And now I was confused and frantically trying to figure out the right thing to do and I had no time to think about it properly. Not to mention that my brain was running on empty from sheer exhaustion.

 

How did we get here? How could this happen?

 

In retrospect, I should’ve known something was up. Little whispered meetings had been going on for weeks as they plotted together. Jen had even been getting more and more affectionate with me. There’d been an increase in the little touches, the cheerful flirting, the casual flashes of skin that hadn't been there before. In my naivety, I’d taken it all as a sign that she was maturing and moving out of her teen rebellion stage.

 

We've always been close. Jen never really did the teen rebellion very well. She crumpled too easily if she saw that she was upsetting me. It's a bit hard to rebel against someone if you don't want to upset the person you're rebelling against. I counted myself lucky that my daughter loved me that much, and paid her back by loosening the rules steadily as she matured and letting her know in every way I could that I returned her love in full measure.

 

I should’ve known she was up to something, but I’d completely missed all the clues. And I should’ve known Estelle was plotting something too. This had Estelle's brand of chaos stamped all over it.

 

My confusion was replaced by a fiercely burning anger deep inside me.

 

I’d been set up. I didn’t blame Jen for an instant. I knew exactly who was responsible for this mess. Estelle thought she had me cornered. She knew I loved Jen too much to simply kick her out of bed.

 

Or maybe it just never occurred to Estelle that I wouldn't want to do what was being offered. Maybe it never occurred to her that I couldn't do what she’d promised Jen I would do. I treat my wife's promises as being nearly as sacred as my own and breaking her promise to Jen felt like a physical pain inside of me, but I had to either break one of her promises or break one of mine – the one I'd made when I married Estelle. And she was giving me away, wrapped in a bow, and expecting me to like it. What was she thinking?

 

I'm not the kind of guy who gets angry and goes for the good old-fashioned yelling and flinging arms around. Come to think of it, I'm not the kind of guy who gets angry at all.

 

I was feeling angry now and I didn't know what to do about it. The anger burned inside me like lava inside a volcano, pressing against my skin, seeking any opening so that it could come spewing out.

 

I was so angry I could feel myself shaking with the effort to hold it all in.

 

But here was Jen, whom I love so much that it hurt. Here was Jen lying beside me on the bed, eager and wanting and expecting something I simply couldn't give her. This had to stop, and it had to stop now.

 

I sprang out of bed and stood there in my boxers, staring back at the two of them. They both lay there looking at me with shocked and confused expressions on their faces.

 

I looked Jen straight in the eyes. “Jen, sweetheart, I love you more than life itself. But I want you to know that I will not be having sex of any sort with you.”  

 

I said it with every ounce of conviction that I could muster. I wanted Jen to see and hear and feel the truth of every part of my statement.

 

I kept looking into her eyes and watched as that understanding formed. Tears followed. I guess that was no surprise.

 

“Don’t be silly,” crooned Estelle. “She’s wanted this for such a long time. This is the perfect night. It's her birthday. Don't spoil her birthday.”

 

Estelle kept on wheedling, but I ignored her for a moment. Jen was sobbing.

 

Estelle came up off the bed and slapped my shoulder.

 

“Now look what you’ve done! You made her cry!”

 

I clenched my jaw. Without turning to face her, I spoke through clenched teeth. “Estelle, I don't want to talk to you right now. I want you to leave the room. I want you to leave the room now! You can sleep in the spare room tonight. Close the door on your way out!”

 

She kept carrying on, so I repeated myself a bit louder and even more firmly – if that’s possible.

 

“Leave right now. Sleep in the spare room. Close the door behind you.”

 

I wasn't quite shouting at her, but I was getting close. I was beginning to think seriously about getting physical and forcibly removing her from the room. It’d be the first time I’d ever done such a thing, but I was so angry that I was ready to do it. The alternative was to let her stay right where she was and risk losing control so badly that I hit her. I’ve never laid hands on my wife in anger. I was vibrating with tension as I held myself back from changing that. Simply speaking angrily to her was rare – and I'd jumped into doing that with both feet.

 

Perhaps it was my tone of voice, or perhaps it was the incredible tension in my back that I was carefully keeping in her direction, but Estelle finally got the message and backed off. She dropped the attempt and stalked out of the room, cursing me as she went.

 

The change of behaviour from sultry to hissing was sudden and total. She said a few things on the way out that I won't repeat but she said them loudly and angrily and nastily. A rough translation would be that in her view I was spoiling everything for no good reason, and I didn't deserve anything from either her or her daughter. According to her, I had one simple thing to do, which was to fuck my daughter, and since I wasn’t doing that I was a complete waste of space.

 

I didn't respond to her bluster in any way except to forcefully repeat that she was to get out and to get out now.

 

Once the door was closed behind her I breathed out. Then I carefully and deliberately breathed in and out five times as slowly as I could in an attempt to calm myself down. It wasn't easy.

 

Finally I was ready to deal with my daughter.

 

I could see that Jen had used a lot of courage to crawl onto my bed and I knew that rejecting her had hurt her badly. On the other hand, it would have been cruel to mislead her about what was or wasn't going to happen. Given my state of mind at the time, I couldn't think of anything else I could’ve done.

 

Jen suddenly leapt out of bed and bolted for the door, but I got in her way and hugged her to me. She struggled in my arms and made like she wanted to leave. I held on tight and refused to let her escape.

 

“Jen, I know you feel embarrassed right now.  I know you want to run away and hide in your room. But we have to fix this. And we have to do it now. If I let you go and hide in your room, things will fester and get worse. Do you understand?”

 

Part way through my spiel, Jen stopped struggling and pulled herself back into me. I sat myself on the bed and pulled Jen onto my lap. She curled into a ball and kept her face pressed into my chest. She was still crying so I sat and rocked her for a while and stroked her back.

 

I was scrambling to think of what to say. Jen had obviously taken a huge gamble with me and I had said no. Obviously she was shattered, and it was going to be up to me to build her back up again. Saying what I wanted to say about her mother was probably going to be counter-productive.

 

Perhaps my silence while I tried to think of what to say had been the best thing to do, so I kept doing it.

 

After a bit, I reached out one arm and hooked a box of tissues off the bed-side table. Jen started wiping her face and I used a couple of tissues to wash the tears and snot off my chest.

 

“I’m sorry, Daddy,” she whispered.

 

I hushed her again. “You have nothing to be sorry about, sweetheart. I feel honoured that my gorgeous daughter would make such a generous offer. It was a really brave and wonderful thing to do. You looked so beautiful at dinner. And when you came out of that bathroom – wow! Just absolutely stunning. I’m so proud of you, right now.”

 

After a bit more sniffling and cleaning, Jen started talking.

 

“I knew this wouldn’t work. I told Mum this wouldn’t work. But she kept talking and talking. In the end I got all caught up in the excitement of everything. The night was going so well and now it's ruined. I feel so awful. Mum was so sure that you would go along with the whole thing. She said it was every man’s fantasy. It was such a shock when you said no.”

 

I shook my head in amazement. I love my wife with all my heart, but she has never really understood me. I’d gone along with way too much of her rubbish. It was obviously way past time I put my foot down.

 

I kissed the top of Jen’s head and stroked her back some more.

 

“You still love me, don’t you?" she whimpered. "You don’t hate me for what I did – tried to do?”

 

I kissed the back of her neck and then the top of her shoulder. “I don’t hate you, Jen. I don’t hate what you tried to do. I’ve never stopped loving you and I guarantee that I will never stop loving you.”

 

She cried a little more.

 

After a little while of shushing and stroking and encouraging, I got to the point where she was resting comfortably in my lap and leaning against my chest.

 

I scooped her up in my arms and repositioned us on the bed so I could lean back against the headboard and a nice wall of pillows. I pulled the covers up over us as far as Jen’s shoulders so that we wouldn’t get cold.

 

She sighed, soulfully.

 

I rocked her gently in my arms. It took a little while but eventually her breathing evened out.

 

I held my daughter in my arms as she slept.

 

Despite my tiredness, I stayed awake for a long time, staring into the darkness, wondering what the hell I was going to do now.

 

 

Chapter 2: Gareth Chancelor, Friday Morning

 

The morning arrived in a rush. I blinked my eyes open when the clock-radio started playing "Yesterday."

 

The Beatles seemed to have read me perfectly.

 

                "Yesterday, all my troubles seemed so far away. Now it looks as though they're here to stay."

 

I mean, sure, the song’s about a girl leaving, but Estelle's lack of concern for my opinion or my feelings had kicked me in the guts so hard that she might as well have left. I felt as if she’d abandoned me by trying to turn me into a toy that she could play with or pass on to whomever took her fancy.

 

And her reaction when I didn’t go along with her plans seemed over the top. It was as if I was wrecking some longer scheme of hers that had little to do with fulfilling any desire of Jen’s to be with me. A sudden chill ran through me as an idea occurred to me. I wanted to discount it immediately. The idea was too bizarre to contemplate. But no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t convince myself that it wasn’t possible.

 

The warm body nestled against me wriggled. The body was warm and curved in all the right places and it was young and firm and it was wrapped in that wispy, almost non-existent, drapery. If it had been Estelle, I would’ve been incredibly turned on, but that part of my brain somehow shuts down when I hold my daughter.

 

Part of it is a conscious decision but part of it comes from holding that tiny bundle in my hands so many years ago and committing my life to protecting her and nurturing her. I can't explain it but I've always been able to admire my daughters, delight in their intelligence, wonder at their beauty, even acknowledge their burgeoning sexuality without ever considering how that sexuality could apply to me.

 

Admittedly I hadn't been in quite this situation before and Jen's declaration last night of what she wanted from me had given the block in that part of my brain quite a battering. But apparently it was still mostly functioning because all I wanted to do was hold her and hug her and make sure that she was okay.

 

I felt Jen stir and wake in my arms. I held on so she couldn't move away from me, but I held her loosely enough so that she could roll over and face me. We lay next to each other and looked into each other's eyes.

 

Her eyes were red from the crying last night, but she seemed calmer this morning.

 

"I'm still a virgin, Daddy," she whispered. "You were going to be my first."

 

I stared at her for a moment and saw the truth of it in her eyes. I leaned forward and planted a kiss on her nose. I didn't know how to respond to that. Intellectually, I’d assumed she'd been sexually active before this, but my heart was pleased that she'd held out. And for her to want me – that was beyond imagining.

 

"Can you tell me why? " she whispered. "Can you tell me why you wouldn't … ?"

 

"Oh, sweetheart, I'm so sorry. There's probably a few reasons and every one of them would be enough on its own."

 

I took a moment to gather my thoughts.

 

"I’d had a really long day and I was totally exhausted. Even if I were going to make love to you, I wouldn’t have wanted it to be last night for your first time because I was so exhausted. I wouldn’t have been able to do you justice.”

 

“Oh! I didn’t think of that. You did get home pretty late. I’m sorry.”

 

“Also, the two of you sprang this on me last night and you know I loathe surprises – big surprises. I don't mind little surprises like being welcomed home with a candle-lit dinner by my wife and my gorgeous daughter. That was lovely. But when people surprise me with big stuff like this, I tend to get angry rather than romantic and I’m pretty sure you’d want me romantic.”

 

“Yeah! I knew you hate surprises. That’s why I didn’t think this would work but Mum convinced me you would like this surprise.”

 

I sighed and shook my head.

 

“Thirdly, I married Estelle and for me, being married means a man has given his word to only make love to his wife. As you know, I take my promises very seriously.”

 

I hesitated as I thought about that promise twenty years ago. It felt like only yesterday but today the purity of that promise felt stained.

 

“And finally, even though you’re now old enough for it not to be child abuse, anything between us would still be incest and therefore not only illegal, but also immoral.”

 

I ran back through everything I’d said, trying to spot if I’d left anything out. "I suppose those are the main reasons. As far as I’m concerned, each one of them on their own would be a deal-breaker."

 

Tears started running down Jen’s cheeks again. “I never really stood a chance, did I? I love you so much that it hurts. I’ve wanted to do this for so long and Mum kept stringing me along. It would’ve been better if she’d told me to forget the idea when I first spoke about it.”

 

“Probably. But your mother has never worked that way. Was this really all your idea?"

 

"Um! I think it came out of a conversation about men and stuff like that – after I broke up with Dale.  She really doesn't have a good opinion about men in general. She thinks you're about the best of a bad lot. She might’ve said something about how you’d make a good lover."

 

"That's what I thought," I said.

 

"But even before that, I loved you and I had … um," Jen blushed but it didn't slow her down. "You know – fantasies about you. I've always loved you. And you're the sexiest man I know. All my friends have had crushes on you. And every time you looked at me or talked to me or held me in your arms I could feel how much you loved me. And for as long as I can remember, I've lain in my bedroom at night and listened to you and Mum and wished that it was me in there with you – even before I really understood what I was hearing."

 

I kissed her on the lips to stop the stream of consciousness before she gave me even more information that I really didn't want to hear.

 

“I have one question, honey. Last night seemed pretty well planned. I assume you were on birth control?”

 

“Of course, Daddy. I’m too young to start having babies. I’ve been on the pill for two years.”

 

“That’s good. I had an extremely worrying thought about what your mother was up to.”

 

“Mum insisted that I be protected. She even got me a new brand of pill that’s supposed to be more effective. She was so determined to make everything perfect for my first time.”

 

My heart sank when I heard that. But I wasn’t ready to share my concerns with Jen.

 

"I'm so angry with you mother," I said. "She had no right to put us into that position. She really hurt both of us."

 

"What are you going to do?" she asked.

 

"I honestly don't know. I do know that some things are going to change around here. The way I feel now is that she can move into the spare room until we sort things out between us. I've had enough of her pulling stunts like that without any consideration for my feelings or my opinions."

 

"I'm glad you're going to stand up to her. You do tend to let her push you around a bit."

 

I looked at her in surprise. I hadn't expected her to agree with me. I didn't know how to deal with that, so I chickened out of the conversation.

 

"We need to get out of bed. You have school and I have work."

 

I rolled out of bed and ducked into the bathroom for a quick visit. When I came out again, Jen was still sitting in the bed with a sheet wrapped around her, hiding that whispy nothing of a night-gown.

 

"I can't go back to my room dressed like this," she muttered at me with a red face.

 

"How did you get in here last night?" I asked.

 

She slapped her forehead. "The bathroom. I left my robe in your bathroom."

 

"It's your bathroom too, this morning. Go and use it."

 

"Don't look, Daddy."

 

I stood there and pouted at her, more to tease than out of any real disappointment. She stuck her tongue out at me. I grinned and turned my back to busy myself at my dresser, pulling out clothes for the day. Behind me I heard the patter of her feet as she trotted past me and into the bathroom.

 

When she came out, wrapped in a knee-length robe, I was mostly dressed and standing in front of the closet, hunting through Estelle's clothes. I pulled out a skirt, blouse and jacket to form an outfit I knew Estelle sometimes wore to work and showed it to Jen.

 

"Can you remember what shoes your mother wears with this outfit?"

 

Jen nodded and picked them out for me. I put them with the outfit and the underwear I'd already dug out.

 

"Jen, how would you feel about waking your mother and telling her I said this is her outfit for today? Can you be really stern with her?"

 

Jen stared at me with wide eyes for a moment and then nodded. "I could do that. You don't normally tell her what to wear. You don't normally tell her to do anything."

 

"No I don't, normally. Does this morning feel normal to you?"

 

She shook her head.

 

"Me neither. I want to make sure it doesn't feel normal for her as well. I want her to get the message that I'm angry with her about what she did to the two of us last night."

 

Jen scowled. "Me too, I'm furious. But it wasn't all her fault."

 

"I know. The rest of it is mine. I should’ve stopped her years ago. I'm sorry you got caught up in it but now you're right in the middle. Are you willing to stay in the middle for a while?"

 

She looked at me with wide eyes, but then she nodded.

 

I smiled. "Good. Come back in here after you've woken Estelle, okay?"

 

"Okay!" said Jen.

 

She picked up the clothes I'd selected for Estelle and stalked out of the room like she was on a mission.

  

I followed her down the hallway and tapped on Bonnie's door. When I didn't hear a response, I went into the room and sat down on the edge of her bed. Bonnie was curled down into the bed with her head completely off the pillow and her face tucked under the edge of the sheets.

 

I tugged the sheets down slightly until her shoulder and face were exposed. Then I gently shook her shoulder. After a couple of shakes, Bonnie's eyes flickered open and she groaned.

 

"Morning sunshine," I said quietly. "Time to wake up. It's a school day, not a snooze day."

 

She groaned again and rolled slightly so that she was looking up at me through sleepy eyes and tousled hair.

 

"Morning Daddy," came a whispered voice. "I'm awake."

 

She reached out into a full body stretch and yawned, mouth gaping wide open.

 

I leaned down and touched my lips to her nose. "So I see, sunshine. Breakfast will be ready soon. See you there."

 

"Okay Daddy."

 

I grinned and walked out of her room.

 

I slipped into the bathroom that the girls share and did a quick explore. I quickly found what I assumed were Jen’s birth control pills, even though the label was medical gobbledygook. The advantages of youth is that neither girl is on any other form of regular medication. I slipped the packet into my pocket and ducked back out of the room.

 

A moment after getting back to the bedroom, Jen came hustling back in and giggled at me. "That was fun," she said. "Mum didn't say a word. She stared at me like I was an alien. I didn't even call her Mum. I called her Estelle. I'm so angry with her that being stern came naturally."

 

I nodded and pointed at the chair in front of Estelle's dresser. Jen slid into the chair and looked at me through the mirror.

 

“Are these your pills?” I asked, dropping the packet onto the dresser.

 

“Yeah, thanks,” she said. She popped a tablet out of the container and slapped it into her mouth.

 

I quietly slipped the packet back into my pocket.

 

"I'm going to give you something," I said quietly. "I want you to look after it very, very carefully."

 

I reached around and fastened a thin gold chain around her neck. Once it was fastened I released the ring I'd threaded through it and let it slide down the chain until it nestled in the valley between her covered breasts.

 

Jen gasped and reached for it. "Your wedding ring?"

 

"Yep. Can you wear this under your uniform at school? Like I said, I want you to look after it."

 

"But why?"

 

To be honest, I had no idea why I’d done that. It felt like the right thing to do but I was acting purely on instinct. Taking off my wedding ring was a message to Estelle and to me, but I had no idea what that message was. I decided to delay answering so I could think of some reason that would make sense.

 

"I'll talk about it later," I said. "Right now, I have to shave, and you have to go to your room and get dressed for school."

 

I kissed the top of her head and then immediately turned and went back into the bathroom. As I left the bedroom, Jen was still sitting at the dresser and staring at the wedding band hanging from her neck.

 

I ran my electric razor over my chin and put my tie on. Then I hurried down to the kitchen and started setting out breakfast. We generally have cornflakes and toast. It's nothing fancy so preparation is not complicated. I poured myself some cornflakes and milk and started eating.

 

The two girls drifted into the kitchen, both already in their maroon and white school uniforms, and with their hair tied back into ponytails. They slid into their normal places and gave me little good-morning type smiles. Both girls immediately dropped some bread into the toaster that I’d set up on the kitchen table and started pouring cereal. I could hear the shower running in the main bathroom, so I knew that Estelle would be a bit longer.

 

I looked around and decided to make some changes. "Jen, slide around into this chair where your mother normally sits. Now Bonnie, you sit where Jen was sitting. Good. That leaves Bonnie's normal chair empty. Now, when your mother turns up, I want you both to pretend everything is normal. Don't make any comments about where you're sitting. If Mum says anything just shrug and go on with breakfast."

 

I narrowed my eyes and looked at them both. "You do remember how to shrug, don't you?"

 

They rolled their eyes at me in response to my sarcasm. I grinned back at them.

 

"What's going on?" asked Bonnie through a mouthful of cornflakes.

 

"Your mother did something last night that made me angry," I said.

 

"Is that why Mum was sleeping in the spare room?" asked Bonnie.

 

"Yes."

 

"What did she do?"

 

I shook my head. "I'd rather not talk about the specifics."

 

"Do you want to divorce Mum?" asked Bonnie, staring straight at me.

 

I stared at her in surprise. I glanced at Jen. She was watching me with an interested expression on her face, waiting to hear my answer.

 

I looked back at Bonnie. "No, I don't want to divorce your mother," I said.

 

Bonnie took a bite out of her toast and chewed while she thought about that.

 

I heard the shower cut off in the background.

 

"I asked the wrong question," said Bonnie. "Are you going to divorce Mum?"

 

"I hope not," I said sincerely.

 

"Why not?"

 

"What?" I blinked at her in surprise.

 

"Why not?" said Bonnie again. "I wouldn't blame you if you did."

 

"You think we should get divorced?" I asked, still amazed by her attitude.

 

"Yeah!"

 

"Why?"

 

"Because she's always being such a bitch to you," Bonnie said it with total conviction.

 

I had to consciously close my mouth before I started looking like an idiot – more of an idiot.

 

"I wouldn't say that," I said.

 

"I would." Bonnie stuck her jaw out stubbornly as she argued with me.

 

I heard the hair dryer start up in the bathroom.

 

"Divorce is a serious thing. Having two parents living together is better for you as you grow up. She's a good mother to you and your sister."

 

Bonnie shrugged. "She's not that good. She can be pretty horrible sometimes. You could find another woman to marry and be my mother. One that isn't always being mean to you. One that would always be nice to me. One that would be a good role model for me."

 

"What do you mean a good role model?" I asked.

 

"A good mother should be teaching me how to treat my husband properly for when I grow up and get married,” said Bonnie. “Mum treats you like shit."

 

I blinked my eyes at her language, but then decided not to react this time.

 

"Not all the time."

 

"Maybe not all the time, but often enough. You should stop putting up with it. You should kick her out."

 

"When I married your mother, I gave my word to stay with her until death do us part. I'd need an awfully good reason to break my word. As far as I'm concerned she really hasn’t done anything serious enough for a divorce."

 

"You mean she isn't sleeping around or something?" asked Bonnie.

 

I stared at Bonnie in surprise.

 

"How old are you?" I asked.

 

"You know how old I am," said Bonnie.

 

"I just want to hear you say it."

 

"I'm 10 years and 2 months old, as of last Saturday."

 

"You're not sounding like a ten year old this morning."

 

Bonnie shrugged again. "I don’t think I sound any different to normal. I'm telling you what I think. And you're trying to change the subject. We're talking about you and Mum."

 

"Yes."

 

"Mona thought maybe Mum was bipolar," Bonnie announced.

 

"Bipolar?"

 

"Yeah! With the mood swings and stuff. We looked it up. Some of the things she does fitted."

 

"Your mother isn't bipolar," I said.

 

"You say that like it’s a fact. Did you take her to a doctor?" asked Bonnie.

 

I blinked. "Okay! I don't know it for a fact, but I don't think she's bipolar. She refuses to see a doctor, so I looked it up. Only some of the things that she does fitted. Enough didn’t fit that I don't think she's bipolar."

 

Bonnie looked at me. I could almost see her mind working behind her eyes. "So you think there might be something wrong with her? You obviously thought about it enough to look up stuff about bipolar?"

 

"Yes," I said.

 

"Hm!" said Bonnie and stared at me with a calculating look in her eyes.

 

"What did she do?" asked Bonnie again. "If she's not sleeping around, what did she do that finally shook you up so much that you got angry?"

 

I heard the hair dryer cut out in the bathroom.

 

"Can we finish this conversation later?" I replied. "Your mother will be coming out for breakfast any minute now and I'd rather not be talking about her when she gets here.

 

Bonnie stared at me for a moment, her eyes assessing me as if she were deciding whether she believed me or not. Then her eyes flicked over to Jen who’d busied herself with eating and was pretending not to notice her sister.

 

"Okay," Bonnie said finally. "Later."

 

I had to hide a smile. Bonnie had been sounding so much like her mother it wasn't funny. The only difference was that Bonnie was genuinely listening to what I had to say and thinking about my answers. Too often Estelle assumes she knows what I think, so her conversations tend to become somewhat one-sided.

 

We went back to eating breakfast in an unusual silence.

 

A few minutes later, I heard the tip-tap of Estelle's shoes on the floor of the hallway. She opened the kitchen door and came in. She was wearing the outfit I’d picked out and was all made up, ready for work. I could see some extra make-up under her eyes, probably hiding some dark rings due to lack of sleep.

 

Estelle came to a halt when she saw that her usual chair was occupied and stood there blinking in confusion. We all ignored her and kept eating. Estelle finally slid into the empty chair without saying a word. She dropped a piece of bread into the toaster and poured herself some coffee from the pot.

 

"Do either of you have anything on after school today?" I asked the girls.

 

Hearing "Nope" from both of them, I continued. "Okay then. Jen has her party tonight. Bonnie will you please come straight out as soon as you're dismissed and walk home with Jen. Don't make her wait around this afternoon, okay?"

 

Bonnie nodded. "Okay, Dad."

 

"Then when you get home tonight, your ONLY chore this afternoon is to help Jen get things ready for the party. Any homework can wait for the weekend. Any other chores that don’t affect the party can wait for the weekend. Any questions?"

 

"That's fine, Daddy. I understand," said Bonny. "I'll come home with Jen and help her set up for the party."

 

I turned my gaze onto Estelle. "Are you likely to get away on time today?"

 

She looked at me strangely and then nodded.

 

"Good!" I said. "Come straight home. I've already arranged to slip away early because of the party, so we should get home at about the same time. We need to talk."

 

Estelle was still staring at me and not saying a word.

 

Her toast popped, making her jump. She nodded once at me and then turned to take her toast from the toaster.

 

I stood up from the table and put my plates and cutlery into the dishwasher.

 

I kissed Bonnie and Jen goodbye, picked up my briefcase and the bag with my lunch in it and left, not even sparing Estelle a glance.

 

I was angry with Estelle and my behaviour this morning had been abnormal. Estelle didn't seem to know what to think. Maybe this time she would get the message. Maybe this time she would be forced to face up to the fact that there was something wrong between us.

 

 

Chapter 3: Bonnie Chancelor

 

So they want me to write down why I’m so angry with Mum. Well what I said at Friday breakfast was part of it but there's more.

 

This is all my own writing. Jen helped me in a few places but mostly she said it was better if it was my own writing. I know I'm not as good at writing as some people but I try really hard and I think I'm getting better. Jen said I still have some things to learn about grammar so maybe I'll ask Miss Little to teach me more grammar. I feel sorry for the boys who have to go to the Grammar School. Imagine having a whole school just to teach grammar. It makes sense that they would make boys go there and not girls 'cos girls are smarter and we can learn grammar from our normal school.

 

Jen started laughing and now she explained that Grammar School wasn't a school just for teaching grammar so now I'm feeling dumb but she told me to leave that bit in 'cos it was funny. I typed this all out on my computer. That's why I can write this here at the start even though I've finished the rest of it. She made me fix a few places where I forgot to put capital letters. Mostly I got those right though so she said that was good.

 

I think Jen was surprised at some things I wrote 'cos I hadn't told her about it when it happened. She said Mum was different with her when she was my age. Maybe a little bit the same but not so much so she never guessed what was happening. All she noticed was that I was always arguing with Mum about stuff. Jen never argued so much with Mum when she was my age or when she was any age. Jen isn’t the type to argue about stuff.

 

I 'spose I've been angry at Mum for the longest time. And lately it's gotten worse. I never really hated her. I know I said I did a few times but that was only ever 'cos I was angry and not 'cos I actually hated her. But I’ve been getting angrier and angrier and I hate being angry but I can’t help it 'cos it’s not my fault. It’s all because of her.

 

The thing is I watch Dad and he’s always so nice to people. He always does everything he can to be nice to somebody even if they're being mean to him. If he can't be nice to somebody he'd rather leave than be mean.

 

It's true. I've seen him do it. I've seen him walk out of the room and lock himself in his bedroom rather than let himself be angry and say the wrong thing or whatever. It's probably why he's never been a boss at his bank even though he's worked there forever. Someone told me bosses have to be mean sometimes like it's part of the job and I don't think Dad can be mean enough to be a boss.

 

So I watch Dad being nice to people and I know what it feels like when he's nice to me which is all the time and I know that’s the right way to be with people. But I do kind of wish he'd sometimes stand up for himself. The other thing is that he's always so calm. I mean he does get angry but only rarely. Almost never. And then he goes and hides in his room until he settles down. The rest of the time he's calm and relaxed and willing to go along with whatever’s happening. And Mum takes advantage of that by bossing him around all the time and telling him what he should do and telling him how he should think about things. And 'cos he wants to be nice to Mum he goes along with what she tells him to do.

 

The only thing about Dad is that I figured out that he hates surprises so I always try to plan ahead if I want to bring a friend over to the house or something so that I can ask before I do it. Or if there's a sleepover with my friends that I want to go to then I tell him about it as soon as I find out even if the details aren't all worked out so he knows it's going to happen and doesn't get surprised. And Aunty Maggie told us he's been like that since he was a kid because they learned the hard way not to give him surprises like the time they gave him a surprise birthday party and as soon as they yelled SURPRISE he ran away and locked himself in his room until everybody left. For some reason I don't think Mum's figured that out about Dad. Either that or she keeps forgetting which is dumb 'cos she's not so stupid as to keep forgetting something like that. But hating surprises is the only kind of difficult thing about Dad. Apart from that he's a good Dad.

 

Then there’s Mum. Living with Mum is like living on a roller-coaster. Sometimes she gets wild and you never know what she's going to do. Other times she's warm and cuddly and caring and mostly what you want from a mother. My biggest problem with Mum is that she treats me like her personal little puppet and keeps pulling my strings left and then right and then up and then down until I don't know which way I'm facing or what I'm supposed to be doing.

 

It's like this and this is just one example I could give you heaps of others. There was one Saturday morning when she wakes me up and pulls my good jeans and a tshirt out of my drawers and tells me to get dressed because we're going out. So I end up in the car and we drive and I ask why we aren't going to gymnastics like normal and she says that we're doing something different for a change. And then she stops at this horse stables place and tells me I'm going to learn how to ride a horse. I tell her I would rather go to gymnastics with my friends from school which is where I'm supposed to be and she tells me that we're here now and I'm going to have way more fun doing this.

 

So fifteen minutes later I'm sitting on the back of a horse which is so wide that I have to do the splits with my legs poking out sideways to sit on the thing. The horse's name is Princess but she's the fattest princess I've ever seen. I have a stupid plastic helmet on my head that's too small so it's giving me a headache and Princess is being led around in a circle by some old man who stinks of cigarettes and horse poo or maybe it's the horse that stinks of cigarettes and horse poo but I can't tell. And every time Princess takes a step I get rolled around so bad that I start to get sea-sick and my bum is sliding around on the saddle so much that I feel like I'm going to fall off any second so all I can do is hang on to the front of the saddle as tight as I can 'cos if I fall off it's a long way down and all there is to land on is a mixture of mud and horse poo and cigarette butts and I know that if I fall off I'll either die from falling or die from drowning in horse poo or die from cancer 'cos of inhaling all those cigarette butts so I don't want to fall. Then it starts pouring with rain and all I'm wearing is this thin tshirt and my jeans so I'm wet and cold and I'm hungry 'cos Mum dragged me out of the house so fast that I missed breakfast.

 

Later I'm sitting in the car and my bum is hurting and my legs are hurting and my good jeans are wet and stink of horse and I'm wet and cold and shivering. And I huddle in front of that tiny little vent in the car which is the heater and I'm slowly recovering from being scared for my life and then Mum says how I had so much fun doing that so she signed me up to do it every Saturday.  And when I complain I get told off for being ungrateful and she's doing all of this for my benefit and so on and so on. And I'm cold and wet and hungry and sore and miserable and my good jeans stink of horse so I yell at her that I fucking hate her. And that's the first time I ever used the f word in front of either of my parents so when we get home Mum makes Dad give me five smacks on my bare bum. Then Mum makes me stand in the corner of the room like always happens when I’ve been smacked with my red bum on display for the whole family.

 

I don't think Dad liked smacking me on the bum but Mum made him do it and he was upset that I'd used the f word at Mum.

 

So about six or seven weeks later I've been going to horse riding every Saturday morning and I've gotten a lot better at riding and gotten put on a horse that isn't so wide that I have to do a sideways splits to sit on the thing and the new horse's name is Molly and I've kind of made friends with Molly.  And from going horse riding every Saturday I've learned to get up early and have a good breakfast in time because it helps me stay warm and bring a coat in case it rains and wear my old jeans which used to be my good jeans but now they're my old jeans 'cos they already stink of horse and I'm having fun with riding Molly. And Mum and I are getting along okay 'cos she's been in a good mood and we have some good laughs and cuddles and stuff like that. Then one morning I get in the car in my stinky jeans and my coat and instead of driving me to the stables Mum drives me to this ballet studio. And she says that I was obviously hating riding horses all the time so she thought I'd have more fun doing ballet.

 

So I'm sad 'cos I was looking forward to seeing Molly but I don't say that. I tell Mum that if I'm going to stop doing horse riding then I would rather do gymnastics with my friends like I was supposed to do on a Saturday morning but Mum says I would have much more fun doing ballet so we go in and she signs me up to do ballet. Well jeans are the absolutely worst thing to dance in and eating before you do dance is also kind of a bad idea so I end up in a borrowed leotard that's too big for me and flops everywhere and you can see my undies underneath 'cos they're my purple ones with a yellow smiley face on the front. And I don't know what to do about this yellow smiley face peeking through my leotard so I try to ignore it and pretend everything is normal. And then one of the straps on the leotard breaks so the top of the leotard keeps sliding down my chest and the other girls are giggling at the smiley face peeking through my leotard and I end up spewing all over the shiny wooden floor because I ate too much breakfast. And when I complain to Mum I get told off for being ungrateful and she is doing all of this for my benefit and blah blah blah. And I tell her that was no fun at all but she tells me don't be silly 'cos I had a great time.

 

So I go to maybe five dance lessons in a row and I have my own leotard that fits me properly and I learn not to wear undies underneath 'cos all the girls say it looks dorky and I learn to only have a juice in the morning 'cos otherwise I spew. And I found out some girls from my school do ballet too and I make some new friends and I'm having fun doing ballet each Saturday. And Mum and I are kind of getting along okay. So then one Saturday there I am in my leotard and nothing else and I'm sitting in the car going to ballet when I see that instead of stopping at the ballet studio Mum turns the other way and parks at the shopping strip. I ask Mum what's going on and she says I was looking bored with dance so she figured she would do me a favour and save me the pain of going through all that. I ask Mum what are we doing at the shops and she says I need some new clothes so I'm dragged up and down the shopping strip and in and out of half a dozen shops wearing only my leotard and absolutely nothing else.

 

Well it turns out that some of the clothes Mum wants me to try on look stupid with a leotard underneath so I have to take it off each time I go into the changing booth to put some other outfit on and of course I'm not wearing my undies underneath the leotard 'cos that would look dorky. So every time I get changed I end up stark staring naked in the little changing booth which would be okay if the door stayed closed. But Mum opens the door and hands me clothes or whatever while I'm starkers and whoever is in the shop gets to look at me while I stand there in the nuddy. Like those two teen girls who stand there looking at me and they put their hands in front of their mouths and giggle and whisper to each other and I'm so embarrassed that I want to crawl into a hole and die.

 

But Mum doesn't even notice that she's blocking the door from closing 'cos she's trying to decide if I should try on the teal skirt with the white top or the teal skirt with the turquoise top while all the time people in the shop are getting to see me with no skirt and no top but if I try to cover up she tells me to stop prancing around. So I have to stand there totally bare and pretend everything is normal while people around the shop are looking at me in the nuddy. Like this big woman with a little boy in her arms who looks at me and smiles and says I'm precious and the little boy stares at me and sticks his finger up his nose and then wants to stick his finger in my face which is so unbelievably gross. So I end up having to try the teal skirt with both tops and stacks of other outfits as well and you can be sure I was totally starkers in between each one of them.

 

And after all that I never end up with any new clothes anyway. And when I complain I get told off for being ungrateful and shopping is so much fun and blah blah blah. And I tell her I hate her and I never want to speak to her again but I don't use the f word because I don't want Dad to spank my bare bum and I've had enough of people seeing my bare bum anyway.

 

So the next week I wake up and I get smart and I ask Mum where we're going before we leave home and she says she wants to take me to a sheep shearing museum because I would find it interesting and I think it would be more interesting to go to gymnastics with my friends but I don't say anything 'cos what's the point? So I put on jeans and a tshirt and we get in the car and wonder of wonders we go to the sheep shearing museum but it's so boring because all there is is a bunch of rusty old equipment. But they do bring in a sheep and shear it using old fashioned clippers which is kind of interesting except when the man cuts the sheep a bit and it bleeds and he doesn't seem to care except that he slaps some stuff on the cut to stop it bleeding.