When I was about seven, my parents went on a trip to see my grandma in Glasgow (we lived in Leeds), so I was sent to my Aunt Jenny’s house for the week.

On the first day, I went to the shop with auntie and I met some children who were roughly the same age as me. I went out to play with them the next day and we went to the local park. Unfortunately, we kicked our ball into a field, surrounded by a fence.

We went in to get the ball and guess who saw us while walking down the street? Aunt Jenny!

She grabbed my arm and dragged me home. My auntie grabbed a cane off a hook in the wall and pulled me to her bedroom. She slapped my face twice and told me that that field was private property.

She then pulled down my trousers and pants and pushed me on to the bed, raised the cane and held it for a teasingly long time above.

Then I heard the dreaded swish of the cane and it hit – the pain was unbearable and I was kicking and screaming. I received nine strokes.

I was then made to stand in the corner facing the wall for an hour. Finally, I was given five more strokes and made to do chores all week.

I never wanted to see strict Aunt Jenny again!