Showing posts from August, 2013

Put on the Spot

'What does it mean to have a w**k?' asks the ten-year-old carryingly as we enter a peaceful country tea room. 'It means to have a walk,' says my brother quickly. Our mother, reared in wartime Bristol when provincial slang was out of synch with modern pleasures, routinely suggests a nice little w**k after lunch. 'We can't let her think that,' I hiss, fearing the implications of our lengthy morning walks to school. We both turn to the Vicar who is masticating placidly on a scone. 'It means,' he says, 'to, um, touch yourself...' 'We can't let her think that either,' I say, mindful of the ten-year-old's obsessive fiddling with her hair. Luckily I recall a piece of intelligence passed on by a parishioner during casual conversation in the vicarage garden. 'We all,' I repeat doubtfully, 'have a 'happy spot'...' 'In our house it's the sofa,' says my brother. The ten-year-old is looking