My younger brother and I were brought up in a small village in England back in the 1970s.
Our parents were very old-fashioned in outlook and were also extremely strict with both of us.
The discipline itself was carried out almost exclusively by mother.
The environment of our upbringing was very protective – perhaps too much so.
In our house, certain subjects were taboo and friendships with members of the opposite sex were strictly forbidden.
By the time that I was a certain age, I was quite naturally beginning to take an interest in boys but was however extremely innocent.
Although I didn’t realize it at the time, my parents deliberately tried to dissuade any interest from boys.
They did this by making me wear clothes that, at best, could be described as non-provocative.
Whereas other girls went around in jeans, fashionable shoes and so on, I only had plain skirts and the like to wear.
Unfortunately, there was one boy in my class, Richard, who nevertheless took a fancy to me.
Having discovered my address, Richard wrote me a letter.
As a matter of course, my post was opened and read by my parents before I got to see it.
Their reaction to the contents of the letter caused them much annoyance.