All my life I’ve never cried. But now, I’m an emotional freak.
It was mid December and the police came to Ireland to interview J and my Doctor. When the officers arrived, I insisted that they come to the house in an unmarked car, so that the neighbours would have no reason to talk about a police car on my property. The Irish are wonderful people but they are, to say the least, nosy. The officers were accompanied by an Irish police sergeant who legally had to take my wife’s statement and physically hand it over to the UK police. It was quite surreal.
Whilst J was being interviewed, HM sat in the front room answering my questions. I asked to see the video of Paul Kenyon Confronts. He took it out of his pocket and asked me to think. If I did not see the video my testimony would be my recollections and not the info gleaned from a TV programme. I agreed with him. HM said he would let me have the video after the trial and this he did do.
During that time I was assured that I would be meeting the Prosecution Barrister, but this did not work out. Whilst all this was going on work dropped off, owing to the state of the financial crisis. This was another stick to beat myself with, a lot less work, less cash and more time to think about my dire situation. For weeks and months my head was all courts, abuse, Robinson, nightmares, no sleep and too much time to spare. It was a terrible time. The only thing that really kept me going was J and my two brothers. They phoned once a week to see how I was. C always says to me that he sends all his love. This I find very strange, not a bad feeling, but I can’t get used to it. It took a paedophile 50 years ago to bring us all together.
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