The reporter was switching off the recorder, dropping it into the shapeless bag that she hung on one shoulder. Making conversation, hoping I hadn’t ...ade too much of a fool of myself, mentally fucking Beverley while reeling off semi-automatic answers, I asked her where the interview would appear. She reminded me that it was for a supplement on education her paper would run at the week end. Of course. Education. That was why she had made so much of my leaving school at sixteen, never getting a. Albertson shuddered, her breasts jiggling beneath her top. “Oh, dear, you have a ... a...” She swallowed. “Does my son ... know... ?”“It just happened,” I babbled. “I’m so embarrassed. I don’t know why it grew. It just did. I ... Let me get my clothes ... I’ll leave.”I turned and prepared to sprint for the stairs—I had to get away from the most embarrassing moment in my entire life—when she grabbed my arm. Her grip tight, hauling me back. Her fingernails bit into my bicep. I gasped as she spun. More

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