At lunchtimes we got into the habit of going to the park and sitting on the same bench every day. We chatted about all sorts of things, not just about her lifestyle although that did crop up fairly often. On Friday I could tell that she was nervous about something and when it came out I had to take some time before responding.“Mistress says would you like to come over for dinner tomorrow night? You can stay over if you like. We have a spare room. It’ll save you driving home late.”For what seemed like ages I let that hang in the air between us. It was so much more than I had ever hoped for. “I’d love to,” I replied, “I’m really eager to meet her at last.”And right there, on ‘our’ bench, in the middle of the park I leant across and kissed her firmly on the lips. I almost floated back to the office and I hardly did any work for the rest of the afternoon. It was only when I got home and to the privacy of my room that the doubts crept in. What had I let myself in for? Would I end up being. "Now. Into the bath, and when I come in I want to see lots of suds andlots of perfumed oil in the water. Your clothes will be on the cotwaiting for you, and I think I will get Aunty Margaret to help you withyour makeup this morning, because we are to have such a special day mydarling." He got into the bath and his mother came in to help him wash,making sure he got into all those nasty cracks and crevices that couldhold dirt.Returning to his cot he looked in dismay at what he was to wear and,despite trying hard not too, he burst into tears again. He seemed tocry a lot more these days for some reason, and he had started to lackthe confidence to do things himself, often having to depend on hismother or Aunty to help him dress, do his makeup and even preparehimself for bed each night. He walked down stairs with a towel aroundhis waist to find if his mother was there to help him. However, AuntyMargaret was sitting in the lounge room when he came in and she soonsorted out that he needed.
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