Two more hours and I would have a little space to do the serious thinking I knew I needed. I drove over to my dad’s once the school day was over, st...pping at a Jamaican bakery in Electric Avenue to pick up a couple of patties. I couldn’t stand them myself but dad loved them, a testament to my mum’s influence. Then I drove through Camberwell and past Loughborough Junction, down into Dulwich and my dad’s small house. He wheeled himself to the door and opened it, looking at me with his usual hint. I had never been one to like ‘bikers’, although I had dated one for a few months. But he was a ‘weekend biker’ and wore designer clothes when he rode. The guy with the reddish goatee was different. He looked every inch a ‘biker’, although it was hard to tell if he had the tattoos or piercing to go along with it. I had this strange attraction to him and I couldn’t figure out why. My type was football players, big guys with Buddha bellies and broad shoulders. He didn’t resemble these types at. More

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