It was a very hot Saturday afternoon in the summer holidays. I was lying naked on the bed doing nothing in particular, Miss Scunthorpe was sitting at the table wearing only her knickers and drawing.
I got up. “What yer doing?”
“Really! What is it?” I picked up the sheet of paper, looked at it, turned it, turned it again.
“I dunno.” Then I realised, it was part of me.
“Oh, Scunty! It's real good. Peter will like it. I'll frame it and hang it on the wall.”