She looked at me and said, "Go on, Debbie, you need to have breast if youwant to feel like a woman. I can help you. You know what you want to do.You ...ant to have breasts, just like mine. Go ahead, or do you need helpgluing your new breasts to your chest. Go on, Debbie, Do It NOW, glueyour new breasts to your chest. You wanted breasts, well, now you willhave them. " I just whimpered and quietly said, "Juliana, yes, I reallywant to have breasts, just like yours. I want them to be just a large. Nor Christmas Eve.Nor Christmas Day, or the day after that, or the day after that, or the day after that.She did manage to get dressed on Sunday, but only because both she and John didn't feel that it was right to eat their Christmas dinner in bathrobes. It wasn't turkey, but John managed to find a couple of steaks in the freezer.It was quite the nicest Christmas she could remember; certainly the best she'd had in many years.It was Thursday before she made it back to her apartment on Point. Are you going to be at home tomorrow? Only we’d like to take a few statements, OK?’ ‘Yes sergeant, no problem,’ said Chris, ‘what time?’ Photographs taken of the room, Cathy’s red cheek and the blood on the carpet, the police cars pulled away, Mike Stafford safely caged in the back of a large Ford Transit. Chris walked back into the house and trudged up the stairs. Cathy was on her knees in her bedroom trying to mop up some of the blood from Mike’s nose before it stained the carpet, but more. Pa was shouting at her. Nancy had done something fairly minor, but he called her into his room which always meant a whipping. As always she obeyed, wanting it over and done with. She followed him into the dark windowless room with one lamp burning, and he closed the door and locked it, which was unusual. His mouth stern as ever under his graying moustache, he pushed her roughly against a chest of drawers and forced her to bend over it with one massive rough hand while with the other he lifted.