Sugar & Spice (14 page)

64

“My sex life?”
“With your wife Bethan, I mean.”
He popped the can and gulped down a few mouthfuls. Tact wasn’t her strong point.
He elected to play along. If she planned to embarrass him again she’d have to
try harder than that. He’d been psyching himself for this all week.
“Pretty good, I guess.” He lit another cigarette.
“On a scale of one to ten?”
A brief pause. “Nine. I enjoy it. Bethan enjoys it. That’s what counts.”
“How do you know? Does she tell you so?”
“Yes. But I can tell anyway. You know how it is.”
“No, Greg, only you know how it is. That’s why I’m asking.” She sipped on
her gin. “What do you do, exactly?”
“Accountancy.”
“With your wife, I mean.”
He shrugged nonchalantly. “Make love, of course. You know, the usual stuff.”
“Don’t be embarrassed, Greg. Everyone does it, and everyone does it
differently. I’m just trying to establish a background picture.”
“Sure.” He dragged on his cigarette. “We shag. You know, in out, in
out.”
“Is there much foreplay?”
“Sometimes. It varies.”
“I see. And you both enjoy it equally?”
“Sure.”
“You don’t think perhaps your wife just says she does, to keep you happy?”
“No!” The bitch! He’d never given it a second thought before. He knew he’d
be wondering from now on. Every time.
“How old were you when you lost your virginity?”
He shrugged. “Sixteen. Fifteen, maybe. It was a long time ago. Yeah,
fifteen.”
“You don’t seem very sure. Most men remember it down to the last detail. It’s
a big event in their life, the first time. Part of their coming-of-age
experience.”
He cast his mind back, trying to remember something over and done with in a few
minutes on a school playing field years ago.
“I was fifteen.”
“How old was she?”
He couldn’t even remember her name. “Same age as me.”
“Fifteen?”
“Fourteen, maybe. Yeah, fourteen. We were just kids.” He realised what he’d
said. “I mean she wasn’t a little girl or anything. We were nearly adults.”
“Nearly adults? At fourteen?”
He glared at her.
“Were you attracted to younger girls at that time?”
“Not children, no. Younger as in thirteen, yeah, sure. When you’re fifteen
yourself that’s pretty normal, isn’t it?”
“It’s not my job to say what’s normal, Greg. Just to try and understand. Was
it a bad experience?”
“What?”
“Your first time?”
Randall searched his memory. “It was all a bit of a rush. Lots of fumbling.
You know how it is at that age.”
“Premature ejaculation?”
“No.”
“Are you sure?”
“I said so, didn’t I?”
“What was her name?”
“I don’t remember.” The name came to him from no-where. “Caroline.”
“Did you like her?”
“Of course, or I wouldn’t have…”
“Let’s go back further, Greg. To before Caroline.”
“Before? But she was the first.”
“Greg, you don’t just suddenly have sex. It’s something that develops. Maybe
kissing, wandering hands. That sort of thing. Do you remember your puberty?”
He shrugged. “Not especially, no.”
“You must have masturbated before you met Caroline.”
“I expect so.”
“You expect so? Don’t you remember?”
Annoyed, “Alright, yes, I masturbated. Doesn’t everybody?”
“How?”
“What?”
“How? I mean, it’s not a skill you’re born with. Masturbation is not an innate
ability. It’s a skill you learn, or perhaps are taught. Which was it with you,
Greg?”

65

He slugged back the drink, his mind wandering. He’d not thought about it, but
suddenly the memories were glaring, as if Reynolds had somehow flicked a switch
in his mind.
Vivid images, and so embarrassing…
Struggling for the first, all-elusive ejaculation, trying to develop a technique
but not even knowing how to hold himself. It brought a faint smile to his face.
“I don’t remember.”
Reynolds looked unconvinced. “After Caroline, did you go out with girls
younger than she?”
“About the same age, I suppose.”
“And as you grew up, did the age of your girlfriends rise accordingly?”
“More or less.”
“Did you have any serious relationships before you met Bethan?”
“Not really. Just the usual teenage liaisons. I met Bethan at college. Our
A-Levels. I had an accountancy job lined up. A friend of my father’s. Bethan was
studying languages. French, German and Spanish. She wanted to work in Europe.
She got much better grades than I did. She could have done anything she
wanted.”
“Obviously she fell pregnant at some stage.”
He smiled. “The Dynamite Twins.”
“We’ll come back to them shortly. When would you say you first realised you
had an attraction to younger girls? To prepubescent children, I mean, not
teenagers. Your responses on the questionnaire were a little evasive.”
Randall pondered the question briefly. “I honestly don’t know. I’ve been
thinking about that for a while, trying to get things into perspective. It
didn’t just happen overnight, but… But they get younger with time.”
“Explain that to me,Greg.”
“I’ve never stopped liking older girls… A girl’s a girl. I can’t remember a
time when I didn’t find myself attracted to a sixteen or seventeen year old. I
mean, they’re adults at that age anyway. Physically, I mean. But younger
girls… Children, That developed slowly.”
Reynolds nodded her encouragement.
“I definitely wasn’t interested in young girls when I was at college. There
was sort of a division, between school and college. You know how it is. Never
the twain shall meet. Lots of my mates had little sisters, but I never gave them
a second thought back then. They were just annoying little kids. You know, they
used to climb all over you in their little dresses, showing their knickers, and
it meant absolutely nothing to me. Nowadays I’d love…”
He realised what he was saying. “Anyway, I met Bethan and we got married.”
“So you’ve only been attracted to really young girls since you met Bethan?”
He considered the statement carefully before answering, unsure where she was
leading. “I don’t see a connection, but yes.”
“Connections come later, Greg. First I need to know when the attraction to
children stems from, then I can look at why, and from there how to develop a
therapeutic approach that will help you deal with it.”
“Sure. You’re the shrink.”
“It’s not psychiatry, Greg. I’m a psychotherapist, not a psychiatrist. Didn’t
I explain the difference to you last time?”
“Sort of. I didn’t take it all in.”
“Apart from your own daughters, do you have much contact with other
children?”
“Not really. Well, the Twins have friends round sometimes. But generally no.
Not anymore.”
“Your daughters’ friends. Are they girls or boys?”
“Mostly girls. But that’s their choice, not mine.”
“The twins are six, aren’t they?”
“They’ll be seven after Christmas.”
“You said last time that your attraction was to older girls.”
“About nine, ten, that sort of age.”
“Why not six?”
Randall searched her eyes but saw no response. He felt uncomfortable. “I don’t
see the Twins in that way. I told you that last time.”
“Greg, I believe you. Honestly. But I need to ask. What about your
daughters’ friends?”
“What about them?”
“It must be nice for you to have a house full of little girls.”
Randall shrugged. “I hadn’t thought about it.”
Reynolds put her cup down and held his gaze. “Greg, I can’t help if you’re not
honest with me. You must understand that. Have your daughters’ friends ever
stayed over?”
He remembered it now. The passing reference in the questionnaire.

66

It had been easier then, just writing it down, with no-one firing questions
back. He tried to remember what he’d written. “There was one occasion.”
Reynolds nodded. “Go on.”
“The Twins had their friends round. A sleep-over. It was half-term or
something. Bethan was at work, so I had to look after the four of them during
the evening.”
“You were alone with four little girls?”
He glared at her. “Nothing happened.”
She looked defensive. “Did I suggest otherwise?”
“Well, they had their baths and – “
“All of them? You bathed your daughters’ friends too?”
Randall squirmed. It had all been so innocent at the time. “I… The Twins…
It was their bath night. Their friends asked if they could join them. That was
all.”
“And you agreed?”
“What else could I do?”
“You could have said no.”
“Dr Reynolds, all I did was put them in the bath. I told their mother the next
day and she was quite happy about it.”
“Mothers are like that, Greg. Motherhood does something to a woman. What
happened?”
“Nothing.”
“In the questionnaire you said that – “
“Alright, yes, but I didn’t touch them or anything.”
“I’m listening.”
“After they’d had their baths I sat them down in front of a video and had a
bath myself. Just a bath. On my own. I didn’t wank over seeing them naked.”
“Did I suggest you did?”
“You were thinking it.”
“So what did happen, Greg?”
“Nothing. I put my dressing gown on and joined them. We had a drink. Hot
cocoa, I mean. A light supper. We were watching a DVD. Some Disney film or
other. Dumbo, I think. Then I realised they were giggling. The girls. I looked
down and found my dressing gown had come open. It was totally unintentional, but
they saw everything. I covered up immediately. I mean, I didn’t want them going
around saying I was flashing at them.”
“And were you?”
“No! It was an accident.”
“But it felt nice, didn’t it, Greg? That’s what you said in the
questionnaire.”
He cursed the questionnaire beneath his breath. “I don’t remember now.”
“But you’d exposed yourself as a child too, Greg, remember? At school? You
said that one day in the playground you -”
That fucking questionnaire! “I was just a kid. I don’t want to talk about that
now.”
“Okay, let’s come back to your daughters’ friends. How old were they?”
“Six, the same as the Twins.”
“Did you find them attractive?”
“No. Cute, maybe, but not a sexual thing.”
“But you like looking at older girls. Eight and nine year olds.”
“I’ve already said that.”
“Let’s talk about the hole in the changing cubicle. Which swimming pool was
that at?”
He took deep breaths, angry that he’d committed so much to paper. Much more than
he remembered. What else had he admitted to? If he’d known this woman was going
to read it and not Dr Quinlan he would have been more circumspect.
“It’s nothing. Just a communal changing room. There was a hole in the wall.”
“Ah yes, the ever-so-convenient hole. The hole looking into the next cubicle,
where children were changing.”
“Yeah. Some pervert had drilled it there.”
“Some pervert, Greg?”
Randall’s face reddened. “It wasn’t me!”

67

“Do you take your daughters swimming often?”
“It’s important that they learn, yes.”
“And you go to this same pool, where the hole is?”
“Not always. It’s quite a way.”
“But sometimes.”
“Yes.”
“Just to watch… Women? Girls?”
He hesitated. “Girls.”
“Girls like your daughters?”
“Older.”
“You don’t find six year olds a turn on?”
“I’ve told you, no. How many more times.”
“But at nine or ten it becomes a sexual thing.”
He clutched the can in frustration. “It’s not as straight-forward as that.
It’s not like, you know, they reach their ninth birthday and suddenly I find
them sexy. I think it’s to do with body changes. I don’t mean puberty. Before
that. You can see it just by looking at them. They way they carry themselves.
The way they move. There’s as much difference between a six year old and a nine
year old as there is between a child of six and sixteen.”
“And it’s this change that attracts you? That you find sexually appealing?”
“Something like that.”
“And you fantasise about girls that age?”
He hesitated. “Masturbating, you mean?”
“If you like, yes.”
“At first it was just looking. But yes, now sometimes. Over the last few
years.” He couldn’t believe he was admitting all this. After just one beer. He
squashed the can in his hand.
Reynolds immediately replaced it with another. She reached down to retrieve a
lap-top which she placed on the coffee table. He took the opportunity to light a
further cigarette.
“How would you describe your childhood, Greg?”
He hesitated. “I told you last time, my father did not abuse me.”
“I don’t want to know about your father this time. Just about your childhood.
Was it pleasant? Do you have fond memories? Or are your early years a blank?”
“It was okay.”
“Remember, Greg, honesty is of paramount importance here. Think back, to your
early childhood. That’s it, take your time. Think right back. What are the
memories that stand out?”
“What do you want, my life story?”
“Of course not. Just to understand where your interest in little girls stems
from. Did you say you had brothers and sisters?”
“A sister.”
“Younger or older than you?”
“Younger.”
“What’s her name?”
“I don’t see that that’s relevant.”
Reynolds ignored him. “Your parents divorced. Why was that?”
“I don’t want to talk about them. They’re family. I don’t want my family being
dragged into this.”
“The less I know the more chance there is of misjudging the extent of your
problem.”
“I’ll risk it. You know about my wife, my daughters. That’s enough.”
“Did you have lots of friends as a child?”
“You know, the usual.”
“What’s the usual?”
“I made friends at school, where I lived, that kind of thing. When we moved I
made new friends. I didn’t keep a head count, for Christ’s sake.”
“Greg, there’s no need to get agitated. They’re quite innocent questions. I’m
not trying to catch you out or anything. Just to understand.”
“I’m sorry.” He stopped himself. What was he apologising to her for?
“What was your upbringing like? In terms of sexual awareness? Were your
parents open about sexual matters, or was it something that was never
discussed?”
“They didn’t make love in front of me, if that’s what you mean, but sure, it
was pretty much out in the open. Sex, I mean. Nudity. That kind of thing. We
were encouraged to take a healthy attitude towards our bodies, not to be ashamed
of them. No-one ever locked the bathroom.”
“Did you bathe together?”
“Not with my parents, no. I mean, sure, we might have as babies, but not
later. I remember sharing the bath with my sister, when we were small enough to
both fit in at once, but that’s all.”
“So you saw your sister naked?”
Randall gulped back the beer. “Yeah, when she was just a kid. When we bathed
together. I didn’t spy on her, for Christ’s sake.”
“I didn’t suggest you did, Greg. You’re very touchy about this subject. Is
there a reason for that?”
“No!”
“I think there is, Greg. I think you have a memory, an unpleasant memory,
somewhere hidden away in your subconscious. Do you understand what I mean, Greg?
I think you’ve suppressed your memories for some reason. That’s why you can’t
relax when you respond to what are straight-forward questions.”
“That’s ridiculous. And anyway, the questions aren’t straight-forward. You’re
trying to make me admit to something that didn’t happen.”
Reynolds pleaded with a sincerity that was almost convincing. “Greg, that’s
not so, please. I’m just trying to be objective. For some reason you are
attracted to young girls. You came here to seek help. But as I’ve said already,
any help we can offer depends on your honesty in answering our questions.”
For the second time he found himself apologising. But at least it was a
conscious lie this time. For the sake of the Dynamite Twins he had to go through
with this.
“As a child you had some unusual fantasies. Can you tell me about them.”
“I don’t remember.”
“Really?”
The bitch. She knew.
That bloody questionnaire.