Selina Hall, 37, Rotherham
What Brian had done was wrong. And he knew it T he smell of roast beef wafted around as I went downstairs. ‘Smells great, Mum,’ I said, taking a seat.
Every Sunday, it was tradition that me, Mum Carol and Dad Brian ate dinner together.
Such happy times. I was close to my family. Dad in particular.
A photographer, I’d often help him on his jobs, carrying his equipment. I liked it. I felt grown up.
Our secret
Then, when I was 11 our relationship changed.
When Mum started working nights, restocking supermarket shelves.
One of those evenings, Dad came into my room.
Saying nothing, he shoved his hands into my pyjama bottoms, groping my privates.
I froze.
Was that normal?
Soon after, while Mum was working,…
