When I was done, I took the bag upstairs to the bedroom and began to systematically remove my clothes, shoes, bathroom kit, and anything I could think...of that I would need. It took two suitcases to carry everything I wanted to take with me. Sylvia had remained in the kitchen, drinking coffee and ignoring me. Fine, I could live with that. When I came downstairs with the first case and placed it at the front door, she suddenly came alive. ‘What are doing? Where are you going with that?’ I didn’t. She wasn’t embarrassed. She LIKED being touched by her, called a bitch and a slut. She WANTED Victoria! But she could not. She struggled for her next move, her next words. Then an idea struck her. Tell her! ‘It’s OK, really, Vikki. I mean it. It’s ok. I’m sorry I’ve misled you all this time. I mean, don’t get me wrong. I’m not a slut. I mean, I’m not a sexual pervert or anything like that. And I don’t think of you that way either! I mean, well, oh hell. Want a beer?’ She smiled and tried to put. More

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