That thing that’s bubbling towards the surface, well I think it’s surfacing.
It’s something to do with trust and innocence.
As a young child I had a relationship with my dad that wasn’t just about hated family walks. He used to take me to work on a Saturday which was something that didn’t happen with my sisters and he used to come and tell me stories at bedtime. He never read me one out of a book but talked about his life, his childhood, his National Service or his really bad jokes that gave him so much pleasure. Then we left London and it all stopped. I felt that I lost him then and that we never got back to that intimacy. Continue reading