Rosie, it sounds crazy, but it was like her hands were a little shy. Bashful. But she didn’t hesitate, just smiled and soaped me up. Not that maybe-...mile, not any more. She had her mother’s smile, full of fun and mischief and, sometimes, promise.I enjoyed standing there, the morning sun still low in the sky, sending slanted beams into our hotel room. I was listening to Rebecca softly humming something that I sort of recognized.But mainly I was concentrating on Rosie’s two little hands, soft and. The day carried on with pretty girls wandering up and down the corridor. Word got around about there being a man in the building and most started wearing a bath robe from the changing rooms to the photo shoot rooms. There was another man, Michael the photographer, but he was as bent as a paperclip so no-one took any notice. I liked Michael straight away, we talked cameras and got on well. People noticed and made those gossipy assumptions people do and suddenly I was the gay painter who had. More

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