When I came back, they told me they knew that I was still going out with him. I don't know why the topic suddenly came up again, but throughout the whole day today I kept on thinking that I shouldn't have left the photos in my bag at home. I went to my room and maybe I was just imagining things, but my bag was definitely closed when I left it- and it was open. The luggage tags, they said. Fine, so what? The late night phone calls- haven't I got other friends as well? People spotting us- MY ARSE. That's the stupidest trick in the book. And a sheer insult to my intelligence, I must add.

Its a sick feeling. Hate and guilt and righteous indignation (because I did no sin) and resent.

And the master of the house calls.