An explanation of sorts.

We lay together on the big brightly coloured sofa watching a film about Patagonia.

She said: 'I did not have a teddy bear when I was a child. I had a seal cub'.

I told her that I did not have a teddy either. Or a seal cub for that matter. I had a rock.

I had found the rock shortly after I had started to walk, I had found it in the shed in the yard near the kitchen door. I brought my new friend into the house to play. I soon learned to love that rock.

When my mother found us together in the living room she tutted then took the rock from me, throwing it onto the fire.

I was saddened by the loss of my new and only friend and saddened also by my mothers cruelty. I also wondered if perhaps my mother was racist; my friend was black.

It did not take me long however to return to the shed in the yard and find a new friend. I loved my new friend almost as much as the first.

It was not long before my mother found us together. My new friend followed the first onto the fire.

This time I did not waste too much time grieving but returned to the shed for another rock. This process repeated itself until I became quick enough on my feet to get ahead of the fire whereupon my mother would put my friends into the basket beside the fireplace saying: 'Who's mummy's clever little helper then'.

I could not for the life of me see what was clever about burning my friends. Since then I have had difficulty forming relationships.

The woman beside me on the brightly coloured sofa said: 'I am your friend'.

'I know'. I replied. As I held the cigarette lighter to the hem of her dress.