She read the email again, for the third time. She had spotted it in her inbox and opened it before going through the rest of the mail. When it started ‘I am so sorry…’ she had no need to read further, but she did, searching for the scrap of good news that might be buried… Continue reading institutional abuse
Nothing changes and I have understood nothing. Individual names and places, titles and faces are irrelevant. All abuse starts with trust. Age and experience bring world-weary cynicism but not to me. I, gullible fool, want to believe in some Arthurian dream of trust, honour and chivalry, where men stand by their word. I walk willingly into… Continue reading who can we trust?