Guest of dishonour
Aug 20, 2020
4 minutes
Catherine, 55
Dragging a suitcase through the front door, my brother Charles shook his hair out of his face.
‘Hello, sis,’ he grinned.
Smiling shyly, I hurried off to my room.
I was 9, Charles was 18.
He’d been away at boarding school, so I didn’t see him a lot.
In fact, he was a stranger to me really.
Most of the time, without a dad around, it was just me and Mum, Denise, then 40.
And that’s exactly how I liked it.
Just weeks after Charles came home, he started arguing
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