So the pressures of her young existence had brought Tanya to a critical stage in her life, where her baser instincts had conquered those more refined and left her with a comforting, hedonistic streak that threatened to overshadow her generally sympathetic and loyal personality. She was now drinking a lot, enjoying sensual afternoons of lesbian indulgence with Liz Clark, and going mad beneath the pounding loins of the animals that the older woman had trained for the purpose.

It was a terrible, tangled web! Rodney had learned to neglect his wife while searching for the dogs his wife had taken to fucking out of loneliness, and at the same time he was getting frequent thrills in heterosexual couplings with the dogs' trainer, Liz Clark, with whom his wife was having a secret homosexual affair. Had either the husband or wife known the truth of the convoluted circumstances surrounding their existence, he or she would have been astounded. But still, both of them were protected by ignorance of the full picture.

There was no doubt that the rot was setting in all over Pickford's Meadows. Even the pristine little Robyn Young was having an affair, albeit reluctantly, with her own uncle, and Tanya knew for a fact that Liz's dogs had had their way with several of the town women, having scared the life out of Agatha Proctor but only after already making use of her homely, red-haired and freckly seventeen-year-old daughter.

Yes, Robyn, and here you sit, you lovely little piece of pink fluff.

"Let's save our worries about Dez until we know it's all for real," Tanya said to the teenage brunette with the silky fall of chocolate hair. "Just relax and pour it out to me. I'm here to talk to, Robs, and I'm the understanding type."