Regrets....part 2.

The following days passed as unremarkably as any teenagers life does. I was in my bedroom listening to music when my mother shouted to me that the girl in question's father was at the door. I had as good as forgotten what we had done.
The presence of this man at my door made something certain, his visit was probably in relation to the crude drawings I had done in relation to his 13 year old daughter.
I reached and turned off my stereo as if to buy me another second. I remember the blood must've rushed to my head as I felt light headed as I made to walk downstairs.
I played the odds until the last second and put on my most unsuspecting faces, which probably translated as guilty if it was an expression of anything but miserable.
The father in question was six foot but old. He was a fireman by trade and as soon as he came home we had to leave his home to let him have his home back.
He was either at work or at his one position at one end of the sofa. Never at my door with such a snappy tone.
"****** has been up to the moors and has seen writing saying "w****** are twats"
I had been proud of my alliteration and almost said "I think you will find, I wrote 'W**** are wankers'" but decided against it. I said "yes I wrote that ... Your daughter calls me and (one of my accomplices) Gay, but it's all just good teasing" "it's just joking around"
He came back with "well you should think yourself lucky that I didn't catch you up there doing it or I would've grabbed hold of you and...."
My mother intervened..." Well YOU should think yourself lucky that you didn't catch him up there, because if you had laid one finger on him, I would've had the police on you"
She continued.."I grew up in London and I remember writing stuff on Walls snout people, I think most kids to at some point"

"yes...well... I think you owe our family an apology and my wife, perhaps, a letter written by each one of you."
"no problem... Like I said I've been friends with your family for years. It was all just fun.....your daughter calls us gay and we call her names"
He left.
I was very proud of my mum. She never said anything more about it.
I wrote the letter and grimaced with a mixture of guilt and embarrassment. Posting that letter was the final footstep I took onto their drive. I was about for the next year or three. I never mixed with any of them again. Childhood was over.
I have had guilt ridden nightmares about the upset which I had caused ever since.
It is something which I thought I would never tackle in my blog, but seeing them in person made me feel such a cock that I needed some sort if closure for my own piece of mind.
So twenty years on .. I am sorry for what I did.
I will continue to be sorry and have guilty dreams about the family.
But now that we have all grown up, I also think they overreacted.
Maybe I'm wrong though.

To be honest though, I've had worse regrets since.
"regrets....I've had shit loads" as Sinatra sang. Or not.