After all, the Queen’s Highway was free for one and all to use. The steps dogged me as I walked on enjoying my exercise. But though it had been brig...t and clear when I left the school, as I crossed the main Barnet road the air began to smell of rain. It was still warm when I sat down on a mossy bank between the road and the fields of a jolly local farmer, Mr Morrison, whose sixteen-year-old daughter, Louella, was a young lady much admired by all at Nottsgrove. She was one of Tennyson’s rosebud. On the other side of the closed door, in the living room, a Daddy I had met online was waiting for me to come out. I could hear him under the soft music sometimes getting up to get more wine.We had exchanged messages for quite some time before agreeing to meet – or, rather, before I agreed to meet. It had taken me time to feel confident and secure enough to let others see me this way – truth be told, I still didn’t feel confident for this meeting. Closing one eye to carefully apply a winged. More

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