Nigel
I first met Nigel at a coffee morning at church, in the group playing board games. Nigel was a big, plump, shy man in his fifties, who suffered from severe osteoarthritis and walked with a frame. As well as Tri-ominos and Scrabble, he loved drawing, and cake. After a few weeks of board games, Nigel handed me a note. In it, he explained that he felt sexually attracted to me, missed kissing and cuddling his girlfriend, who had died the previous year, and felt that he needed sex very badly, but he would never force himself on me, and that I was welcome to come to his flat. He added that he suffered from schizophrenia, but took his tablets regularly. I wrote a reply, explaining as gently as I could that I didn’t feel sexually attracted to him and didn’t really want to visit his flat. The offer seemed too reminiscent of ‘ Have Some Madeira, M’Dear ’ (although if Nigel had been the seducer, he would definitely have been offering cake rather than w...