I was low on petrol, having left my wallet in the bedroom.Marlene’d thrown her coat and handbag across the breakfast bar. The bag gaped open, reveal...ng her purse. I never open her purse, I mean never, on pain of death, ever. We have joint accounts, sharing household and living expenses, we had for twenty years, but cash is ... personal.The reason the tank was empty was her post-Christmas sales. She’d done them all, particularly treasuring those leather boots she nervously said were a bargain.. My father passed away from an early heart attack when I was 4 years old. My mother, a saintly woman, did the best she could too raise us on a bank teller's salary. For the most part my c***dhood was happy and without unusual events except one.When I was entering puberty my mother sat me down to give me the "bird's-and-the-bees" talk. It was vague and awkward for both of us and I was already aware of most of the activities that these birds and bees engaged in. I can't remember what she said to. More

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