Dad approached, he twisted right, off the single line of slabs cut into the lawn to create a solid dry pathway. He then sat on my tree branch, the same one I had been discovered bent over. His pipe smoke filled the air billowing up and around the trees, poisoning the atmosphere; no wonder mum had banned him to the garden with it. He had turned toward the house, facing partially away from me; not quite side on, but nearly. He puffed hard at his pipe whilst looking intently along the stretch of grass separating him from the kitchen.
I carefully peeked between two leaf dense branches, which comprised a part of the tree-house wall until I could see him clearly, over and down there, then I wished that I couldn’t! No child should have to watch what I had to watch. Dad whilst puffing his pipe w
