OCTOBER 1943
It was very noisy at home for a long time. If I had been dreading it my dread was as nothing compared to the reality of the situation. My mother screamed when she saw the state of me standing at the kitchen door. My father heard it and came rushing in and stubbed out his Gold Flake cigarette on a saucer. Paula grinned at me from her seat at the kitchen table and then, realising it must be serious, her lip trembled and she shed a few tears.
"What on earth?" mother screamed out.
"I had a bit of an accident," I said sheepishly.
"What, have you been hit by a car, are you alright?" she yelled and came over and first hugged me in a fierce, crushing embrace and then stood back and started feeling my arms and looking me straight in the face demanded to know where I was injured.
"
