Arthur Littlewood was a man in his sixties with a pink bald head and a fringe of white hair around his ears. He never said much. He listened to Charli... Desmond and he watched the doings in the club. Mrs. Littlewood was more talkative. She was a well-groomed woman with a sharp tongue and she liked to drink. This evening she was drinking gin and White Rock and the liquor seemed to go down in a continuous flow without any effect on her. Her daughter Caroline, maybe to show how different she was. So from my early years until I was ten, I was innocent of all sexual differences between the members of my family. My parents were not sexual beings at all to me, and my sister was the person who would sometimes let me play when she was bored and other times would take pleasure in excluding me from her games.Then, one day, s*s approached me in an unusually shy way, ‘Junior,’ she wheedled, ‘Do you want to play a special game I’ve made up?”Of course, she had me; I was always pleased to be invited. More

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