Alfred on the bedroom floor, reaching for a glass of water.

Unwinding.

Sir is talking. The bench hard against the back of my knees. A note passed between desks. I take it. Sir turns, sees me. I feel cold.

Thwack, he hurts me. Thwack. Out into the cold, buttocks burning. Snow in the school yard, thick as icing. Wanting to sit down in it. Boys push past, laughing. I run out of the gates, run home. Shame.

Unwinding.

So dark in here, and noise still ringing in my ears. The party, a proper do. Toasts all evening and now I’ve had too much. She’s here, undressing. I can hear her. A rustle, elastic snap. A hand takes mine in the dark. Panic. I don’t know how, does she know how?

Unwinding.

Thwack, with the belt. He cries, but it’s good for him. He twists under my hands, I try to grab him but he’s gone. I breathe. It’s good for him.

Unwinding.

My granddaughter, Lilly. “I’m sorry love,” Hilda says, “it’s his illness, he doesn’t remember.” Who does she mean?

Unwinding.

Alfred, on the bedroom floor. Reaching.