George was thirteen then. She quite deliberately captivated me and I
laughed, knowing in my heart she would never be pinned down and never
should be.
That was then.
I'd bump into George in the interim - she'd be with her school friends.
Harwood gives me Nabokov's Lolita to read.
I'm with Harwood when we come across George with a young guy named
Alsford. It ends with me chasing her across the mud flats in our
underpants.
This throbbing ballet must have happened in the Dark ages, unless I
imagined it.