Confession

We shouldn't have done it. We know it. But now it's done we are ashamed and we've decided to confess.

It happened on Sunday in the park. We were an innocent looking family watching our son playing on the slide. Then it happened. Some teenagers approached us. We didn't know them, nor them us. He came straight out with it: offered us the stuff.

I hadn't expected this and I wasn't prepared for it. No-one had offered me anything more than a flyer in public since I was in Amsertdam back in '92. But from the moment he had offered it the situation changed. We changed. We knew what we were doing was dodgy but the situation spun out of control, drew us in. At first Hayley was adamant we shouldn't try it. The boy swore it was unadulterated, pre-cut and safe, but Hayley knew that we'd be taking a risk. She was probably picturing us throwing up later that evening, or worse. She wasn't ready to risk it.

But I reminded her that we really needed it. We had got ourselves into a situation where it was too late to get out of it any other way. And at least this way no-one would know what a mess we'd got ourselves into or how we dealt with it. We were tired and desperate. So we acted like tired and desperate people.

It can't have been more than a minute since he'd approached us, but now I was reaching into my pocket. Seconds later money had been exchanged for goods and the deal was over. They left as stealthily as they'd arrived. We packed up quickly and headed home, an apparently normal family at the end of a normal day.

And so it was, on Sunday evening, that we came to be eating pre-cut floury buns that were left over from the burger stall at the fair. And all because we forgot to buy bread before Somerfield shut at 4pm.