I’d never even been kissed
Sep 02, 2021
4 minutes
Helen Morgan, 38, Caerphilly
![f006-01](https://article-imgs.scribdassets.com/9ppcz815xc8x43xg/images/fileKL5ALSWT.jpg)
![f007-01](https://article-imgs.scribdassets.com/9ppcz815xc8x43xg/images/fileRURZAO25.jpg)
As I watched my springer spaniel Chum run around the footy field, a stranger plonked himself on the grass beside me.
‘You alright?’ he asked.
I nodded, meekly.
He looked about 19, and I was only 12.
It was 1995, and stranger danger had been drilled into me at home and at school.
‘I’ve seen you around,’ he continued, his hand snaking on to my thigh.
I flinched.
Apart from his name – Andrew Higgs – he didn’t say much else.
Just sat there.
After letting Chum play another few minutes, I scurried off.
Only, in the following weeks, I saw Andrew everywhere I went.
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