It took a few minutes to realise it but the young boy was me! How could this little boy in these photos be me? I was a pretty little girl, not a young...boy, or was I? Things we're slowly starting to slot into place in my mind. I was now a little girl, that did little girl things and liked to do little girl things, but at some point I'd been a little boy. All of a sudden, the memories all flooded back, of me moving house with my parents, my first day delivering newspapers, and then meeting John.. ‘Maybe there is hope for you,’ she said, happy to see this change in attitude. ‘I hope so,’ Ricky said. ‘I love Dad, but I’m not sure I want to be just like him.’ He stood up. ‘You think Den’s still up?’ he asked. ‘Ah…no, I don’t think he is,’ Mary lied. ‘He…he went to bed some time ago. He…he was tired because we spent a lot of time over at his house, getting things cleaned up.’ ‘Oh,’ Rick said. ‘I was going to tell him about State.’ He shrugged. ‘I guess I’ll have to tell him in the morning.. More

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