Nor could she help glancing down at the front of the hermaphrodite girl’s skirt; wondering if there was a big bulge hiding under it!And wondering ho... she felt about it, if there was.“Does anyone come now, you know, come to this room at the end of the day or something?” she asked the girl, “I’m so sorry, I missed your name. I’m Sophie.”“I’m Georgie,” the girl smiled even more warmly. “At quarter past six we go make supper, to the kitchen. We go, they don’t come here.” She was moving even closer,. Sally Cathcart’s husband was a colleague of my father’s. In fact my father and I had helped Mr Cathcart with a bit of DIY a while back. Sally, who was genuinely a nurse, like Mrs Craddock, had been there, all ginger-curled effervescence and dressed in short shorts that made a man want to own her bum.Maybe it was the shock that did it. Maybe it was the realisation there were suddenly two women there. Maybe it was the realisation that the same Sally Cathcart I’d lusted after in secret was now. More

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