Christine Keeler

It's been a misery for me, living with Christine Keeler.

As a little girl I used to daydream about my real father coming on a white horse to rescue me.

Bill Astor knew these papers were missing. Stephen showed his hand in October.

Even a criminal has the right to a new life, but they made sure I did not have that. They just didn't stop calling me a prostitute for ever and ever and ever and ever.

However I dress it up, I was a spy and I am not proud of it.

I don't know if he was the fourth man or the fifth, but he was certainly in the top 10.

I have always been free with my love - it is my nature. I am easily captivated by men and they have always been attracted to me.

I have survived and possibly I should not hope for more than that.

I took on the sins of everybody, of a generation, really.

I went out every single night so I was never alone with my stepfather. At 12, I stopped going on holiday with them. The times I was alone with him I always made sure I was all covered up.

I won't say I didn't like it at the time, the sex, that is, because I wouldn't have let him do it at all if that had been the case.

I'm terrified of men these days. If someone asked me out now, I don't know what I'd say, how I'd react. But I couldn't go through with it, not at all. I suppose I've been terrified of them all along.

If I don't tell it all now, the story in the history books will always be imperfect and that would be wrong.

Men, all men, were always trying to get hold of me, you know.

My mother used to go out on her own, and I used to have to keep a look out for my stepfather coming home.

No one else knows the whole story. I was there. I lived through it.

One way of reading my life is that I have been in constant search for a father.

They came and bound me up and I had awful stretch marks. I hated my breasts after that.

They wanted to hear about the sex, of course. But not the rest; no one wanted to hear the rest.

We knew we were talking about spies. I knew he knew I knew. I was digging my own grave.

Discretion is the polite word for hypocrisy.

He had a way with him. Before you had a chance to say no, he was there and done. That only happened to me once before, with a duke, who literally swept me off my feet, and before I knew what was happening, we'd done it. Another terrible mistake.

He's 85 and he's met another woman. Still, at 85, why ever not?

I enjoyed sex and indulged in it when I fancied the men.

The fathers, if they got me alone, would try to kiss and fondle me. I hated it.