The fathers, if they got me alone, would try to kiss and fondle me. I hated it.
I enjoyed sex and indulged in it when I fancied the men.
As a little girl I used to daydream about my real father coming on a white horse to rescue me.
I like to think that people live on in other people's memories.
We knew we were talking about spies. I knew he knew I knew. I was digging my own grave.
It's been a misery for me, living with Christine Keeler.