Now he wasn’t a neighbour with who I’d ever chatted with before, other than saying ‘hello’ but I guessed which neighbour it was. He was a much...older man who I put in his late 50’s living almost opposite to us; at the time I thought he was a widower.As we were talking my husband drove into our drive and he said -- he'd better hang up, and he asked if I minded that he saw me and I said no, not at all, and he asked if I minded if he call me again, I said okay. I must admit that in those few. Fuck her. Janitor, you want her? Her address is 2844 Maeden Lane, Apt 44, and she's got a key hidden above the door frame. Have fun.As I sit listening to my mother babble on in her mind, I can't help but feel she's suppressing something. Something dark, something hidden.I have learned that the closer I get to people, the better I can read them, so getting closer, I realize she's trying to think something to my flesh bag.My father isn't the ex-husband of my mother. Well shit. I could have told. She could feel him fondling behind her back as he unclipped her bra strap. He took hold of her top and bra and pulled them over her head, then down her restrained arms so they were hanging behind her. The only thing stopping them coming off was the handbag strap that was holding her arms so firmly. "Bring her over here." the third guy said.The blonde guy grabbed one arm and the redhead walked behind her and took the other. She was easily lifted off the ground as if she weighed nothing at all. He remembers running his hands through Elena's hair while they kiss, and flushing, looks quickly away from her mother."Yes?" She returns his gaze with interest.He offers her his right hand. "My name is Gavin."I'm selling encyclopedias. Are you a World Book or Britannica fan?"Oh," her handshake is firm, no nonsense. "So, you're Elena's Gavin?"Elena's Gavin?"Yes Ma'am." His tongue feels as though it's made of cotton.She's watching him knowingly, as though realizing how tongue-tied he is. Yes,.