My back pages (1)

I thought I’d do a wee series of photos of myself and give you some of the back story. My memories are not always happy.  This one is of me (right) and my cousin John on holiday at Crail. I would guess I was 8 or 9. My cousin was sadistic and liked to shut me in one of the bedrooms in their house and perform Chinese burns and wrestling holds on me while yelling: ’Do you submit?’ One time he attacked me with a bullwhip. The last time I saw him was at his mother’s funeral.  He was paunchy and remarkably ugly looking. He went on and on about his great life in Thailand. You are a slimeball  I thought. I'm not scarred by this, but oddly I don't know if I've ever mentioned it to anyone before.