Since then there had been a long succession of arrogant worthless low lives each as bad as the next in their own way. Mostly they had ignored me, just...their bitch’s brat, but puberty had put an end to that. Steve, the last ‘new dad’, had started fucking me shortly after I turned fourteen, mum didn’t seem to care, she didn’t care about very much at all these days. Ian had carried on where Steve left off.“There you are!” The kitchen door slammed open and Ian walked in; he stank of god only knew. ‘Maybe I was a bit hasty when I first saw you. I don’t know your background but you come across as an educated man.’ I was beginning to realise that to call someone ‘educated’ was the greatest compliment Laura knew how to bestow. I nodded my appreciation and, following Fran’s example, gave the degree-holder’s equivalent of name, rank, and serial number. ‘Oxford, 1978.’ Laura, a Cambridge girl through and through, sniffed disdainfully. ‘Oxford? Oh, well, so I was mistaken.’ We both laughed. More

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