My young sister was born during the summer vacations. My mother gained a bit of weight after her pregnancy and she looked more attractive than ever be...fore. She used to breast feed my sister. I used to look at those wonderful breasts. I felt my young sister was lucky to suckle those breasts. Three of us slept in the same room. In the night my baby sister used to wake up and cry. Then mother would take her and breast feed her. One night my sister wet my mother’s saree. She just took the saree off. Then sometimes, I found that even when I had been successful in attracting the attention of a current idol, he didn’t always turn out to be very exciting physically. So I quickly understood that what we then thought was ‘love’ was not so good if the sexual excitement wasn’t there – and that a good petting session with a boy who knew what he was doing could make a very nice, if temporary substitute for it. By this time I had also learned enough about the likely reactions of my girl friends to. Since he has been calling for you, it might help.? She agreed, so Iput the phone on the pillow and held it close to the least bruised ear.Remarkably, the hysteria in her voice instantly subsided, replaced withthe soothing tones of a mother trying to comfort her child.The two boys had wandered over to the window to see what they could seefrom the third floor. The girls had seated themselves on the little sofa.Nathan had just moved a chair over to the bedside for me to sit down onwhile I was. It was dark when we awoke. We ate in the hotel and went for a short walk round the district in the dark. Some of it seemed familiar but that was as far as my memory went.However when we stood on the bridge next to the hotel, and looked down upon a small brook, I had a flash of memory. It was called Baguley Brook, and I remembered games we used to play by it and in it, fishing for minnows, finding frog spawn, wading in Wellington boots or bare feet in the water. The clarity of the memory.