‘But he’s my cousin…’
Cheryl, 47, Hertfordshire
As the doorbell chimed, I rolled my eyes.
‘David’s here,’ I groaned.
‘Be nice,’ my dad, then 36, laughed as he walked towards the door.
It was February 1981 and we’d been expecting the monthly visit from some of the family.
My dad’s brother, then 28, and his son, my cousin, David, then 8.
As Dad greeted my uncle, David yanked my ponytail.
‘Get off,’ I shrieked, running away.
Each month, my cousin David and I would playfight or watch TV while our parents
