The year was 1986 and two young girls were running free in Kings Park, high above the city of Perth.
It was a typical hot summer day, the air was thick with the sound of crickets and the distant hum of traffic. The dazzling Australian sun gave everything a bleached, slightly yellow appearance that made you squint. Despite the heat, the grass was deep green and lush underfoot.
The two girls, seven and eight, were dressed only in bathers. Let's call them Mary and Kate.
Mary's mother was settled in the shade, a picnic spread before her. Mary's older sister played nearby with a friend. The park was by no means quiet, yet somehow Mary and Kate found themselves alone, running down a grassy path.
Suddenly they no longer alone. A man stood before them on the path. To their youthful eyes he seemed old. He was probably only in his thirties or forties.
The girls stopped and faced him, silent. He smiled warmly at them.
'Do you girls happen to know where the nearest toilets are,' he asked.
The girls knew the park very well. This man was obviously a visitor or else he would know the nearest toilets were in a far distant area. They told him so.
The man looked embarrassed.
'I really need to go,' he told them. 'Do you think you could stand guard while I take a leak here. Warn me if someone comes?'
Without waiting for an answer he pulled down his pants.
The girls were now the ones who were embarrassed. Giggling to themselves, they turned their backs and kept guard for people. They stared at their feet and glanced sideways at each other, waiting in silence.
They still had their backs turned when the man's voice was suddenly behind them.
'Those are nice bathers you are wearing,' he told Mary.
Mary looked up at him and shrugged. She thought they were okay.
'I'm going to make a pair of bathers for my daughter,' he said. 'But I don't know what type of elastic I need to use. Can I just check to see what elastic you have in your bathers?'
The man slipped a finger under the elastic at the top of Mary's leg. He stretched it out a bit, testing it, all the while having a serious expression on his face. As though he was really intending to sew a pair of bathers for his daughter. He moved his finger further round the leg of Mary's bathers.
Mary's eight year old innocence doesn't realise where else he put his finger. She doesn't yet understand what is happening, although she know it feels wrong. Her face burns and she can't look him or Kate in the eye.
A voice further down the path startles the man. He withdraws his finger.
'Nice,' he says. 'Thankyou.' He turns quickly and walks way down the path.
Mary and Kate, not speaking, run back to where Mary's mother and sister have gathered for lunch.
'There you are,' Mary's mum says, gathering the girls back into the fold.
The girls say nothing. Not then. Not to each other.