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Indeed, until my early 20s, the very thought of sex was repugnant to me.So, although I was always the prettiest girl at the party — the belle of the ball, the one whom everyone said was the spitting image of Elizabeth Taylor — I had the reputation of Fort Knox. But love, of course, has a way of changing everything.
As we listen to my mother’s pounding piano behind the parlour door, he introduces me to the ‘game’ that will have far-reaching consequences. ’That was the start of the secret that Mama must never, ever, discover. I often wanted to run away — but, of course, a part of me also wanted to please Daddy.The most obvious legacy of his abuse was that I had a reputation at Brighton Art College as a heart-breaker.During my five years there, I was engaged three times — but my fiancés were only ever allowed to kiss me goodnight.He’d point at me, thrusting me in the beleaguered performer’s path.
But nobody invited us round to their dressing-rooms, or slipped a card into my father’s gloved hand, murmuring that he should get in touch and bring the lovely child along.I’d lie on the bed and try to hide my head under my pillow as the blows rained down the full length of my body. My father lost all sexual interest in me and even the beatings ceased.