Just thought I'd get out and leave you for a bit. I mean, you clearly thought everyone was away, so...''So...''It's fine, really.'I thought for a minu...e. Of all my flatmates, I probably knew the least about Fiona because she was so quiet. Maybe we could talk now. 'Do you want some wine? I've got more in the fridge, four bottles. I didn't know what the boys would like.''I'll have one.'We started drinking. I asked Fiona what had happened with her parents, but she didn't want to talk about that.. She just made a comment about warming the towel by the fire and handed it to me and left.This became a pattern for the rest of the day, every time I went off alone to check or get something my mother would appear shortly afterwards and the conversation always had a share of double-entendres. Sandy also tried to get me alone and I was getting frustrated at all the attention but little action. Late in the day I was able to go to the toilet in peace and as I came back I could just make out the end. Then he pinches a nipple. “These are starting to fill with milk too. Not long now Baby. As Bob thinks you look so good I think we should take some pictures for the family album.” Dad says as he heads into the sitting room. I hear him routing through cupboards. “That’s it. Come in here” he says. As I walk through the door I’m almost blinded by the flash of a camera. “What are you doing Dad?” I ask bemused. “Taking pictures of my beautiful daughter” is the answer I get back. Click, click, click.. An hour and half later; Jean had tidied up, washed the dishes, put them away and chosen a simple white blouse over a black short skirt to wear; patent leather low heeled sling back shoes and minimal make up; just a light dusting of eye shadow, a quick brush of a blusher under a thin foundation. She looked critically in the full length mirror, noticing for the millionth time, the blemish of a small brown mole at the corner of her left eye. She was not pretty, she thought, couldn't be described.