Fuck!" Mmm, yeah!"Are they doing what I think they're doing? Undoubtedly. I smiled. Mybrother was 27 and his husband was what, 32? I'd be surprised if...theydidn't fuck every single night.The walls were paper-thin, though. It was the moaning that got myattention, but now I could hear everything: the bed creaking, bodiesshuffling, body parts being smacked and slapped."Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck," I heard a voice that was unmistakably mybrother's.I thought of what Owen had sad earlier, "I keep trying. The following week's whist party brought the biggest shock of all. It was at a lady called Carolyn's house. Who should be there but Mrs. Boot and her son Steven. Gerry was over the other side of the room and talking to some of her friends, and I was standing in the hall holding a glass of Drambuie. Whenever he saw me he came straight over, "What are you doing here Smock?" He asked in a very loud voice."He is my guest I invited him, I have not invited you, so would you please leave and learn to. More

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