“Knickers down,” I said. “Yes,” she said. A courting couple had taken up residence in the bus shelter so I walked Jeannie home. “The others used a rubber,” she said sadly. I was shocked, we going home from London Padington to Oxford, it was December 1960, the old fashioned train with no corridors had individual compartments and we were alone in a compartment intended for 12, so hardly crowded. “I thought you said it was Clive?” I challenged. “I lost them, do you really want to do me?” she asked. “So?” she asked. “Seven days of pleading the way I remember it,” I reminded her “And then you said I had agreed even before I did finally agree.”
“You could have said no,” she challenged. “No!” she protested.
