For a while she lay still, considering each and putting it in its proper place. On the bad side she had been exiled to Devon, but on the good she was in Devon. On the bad side she had crashed the car, but on the good none of her relatives knew. On the bad side she had been made to suck a man’s penis, but on the good side she had really rather enjoyed it. On the bad side she had Vera Clapshott as her personal maid and no less fewer than six aunts all of whom seemed to consider a day wasted unless it involved the application of a hand to her bare bottom. On the good side she hadn’t actually been spanked yet. Unfortunately there were also Freddie Drake and Myrtle Finch-Farmiloe, which left her ledger heavier on the debit side, and she was frowning as she got up. The air was a little cold and she hurried to wash, hoping nobody would be about as she scampered across the corridor, her bare bottom showing beneath the hem of her abbreviated nightie. Reaching the bathroom door, she quickly pushed it open, entered and locked it behind her, glad she had not been seen – only to turn around and discover a man standing at the washbasin, a rotund, elderly man with a moustache so abundant that he appeared to be staring out from above a quickset hedge, while his notably corpulent body was clad in pyjamas of a stupefying mauve.
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