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8. So now you think badly of me. I can tell. I get the looks every day, I feel the tension when I enter a room, so I know from the way you’ve reacted to what you’ve read that you’re already forming a judgement about me and it can’t really be good can it? I’ve told you more than I’ve ever told anyone before, and yet I can feel that I’m losing your sympathy. Did I ever have your sympathy? Do I want your sympathy? Hell, yes.

9. I apologise. I may have gone too far and assumed too much and, again, for that I apologise. I maybe shouldn’t tar everyone with same brush. But what I’d love to know, but never will, is – was I right?

10. That’s when the past rears up. It’s like a nausea, the odd taste and the increase in saliva in your mouth and the knowledge that any minute your stomach will expunge its contents. That’s how buried secrets and guilt affect you. At odd moments a frame will appear in your mind and try and grow into a scene, and then possibly a whole film of your misdemeanours. The trick is to shake it away, possibly shout out and then concentrate on what you’re doing. Not advisable in board meetings.