”“Back in the old days, Pullman porters used to be called ‘George’ regardless of their name,” George started, “harking back to the slave t...radition of calling slaves by the name of their master. Some porters still did it for a while, sort of as a reverse pride. When they first met, Uncle Dave asked my dad to call him ‘George,’ despite the prominent ‘David’ on his name tag.”“Oh,” she said as the passed into the Slumbercoach “Loch Ness.”“Whoa, I didn’t notice this before, but these are tiny...”. This was inside, this unnamable sense of something. Yet even as she dipped the water bucket into the cool, clear spring, she knew she wanted to look back and study the strangeness. The air of the shelter intrigued her. With her thoughts continuing to drift around this new puzzle, she lifted the wooden bucket back up. She'd learned to pull the weight with her arms and shoulders, saving the muscles of her back. Walking back towards the shelter, Mary firmed her decision. She would not run from. It's so embarrassing. I know men want it and I wanted Matthew to enjoy it so I let him”“Rhianna! For fucks sake. Its not about letting a man fuck you. Its about both of you wanting it” I sternly told her. God. “You have so much to learn. You should know it all by now but you're pregnant by a boy just sowing his wild oats”. I could see she was getting more upset. “Don't worry. What's done is done. We can't change that. Just enjoy your pregnancy and your baby. Just promise me this. Next time you. That Friday we drove down and met up with them , the weather was roasting and the caravan park was packed out , most people sat outside having BBQs and sunbathing .For a caravan park it was actually quite nice and My Aunties caravan was massive .I had to stay on the sofa bed and my mum stayed with my auntie Karen .The k**s were all grown up since last Time I saw them and Karen looked well , a few months earlier her and my Uncle Mike had split up and mike had left her with the 3 k ids .Anyway we.