Daddy had four loves – mummy, his mum, and us
Last year, I noticed things. I heard daddy fucking mummy … hard. Banging against the wall woke me, followed by the cries of mummy’s ecstasy. Other times, the moans sounded like Daphne my sister, back from Uni.
That Christmas, granny came to stay, grandpa had passed, daddy wanted “his” mummy to be happy. For some reason mummy slept in the spare room on Christmas Eve. I heard the same old banging and a different voice erupting in pleasure.
Christmas night, I got my special present, and I learned to sing.
