The man next door

When I was ten years old, my parents won a raffle for a short weekend break in Cornwall. Unfortunately, it was only for two adults so something had to be done with me, as it was naturally felt I couldn’t be left home alone.

I was therefore ‘parked’ with Aunt Christine, my mum’s eldest sister. She was in her 40s and had never married. In retrospect, she was probably gay but in the 1970s things like that weren’t talked about, of course.

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