I was twenty-two years old when I first slept with my mother. It was a surreal and completely unexpected experience. It began with a phone call from my Aunt Doreen. She broke the news that Great Aunt Judy was in the hospital and unlikely to pull through. Mum was visibly upset and made immediate plans to visit Judy, who lived in Hastings, a seaside town on the English Sussex coast. Dad was away on business, and Mum didn’t...