I think the thing is Iain - maybe you don't understand what the betrayal of trust felt like.

I came from an orange and green family. There was some sort of family bust up with the priest, and my Mum was the only kid out of four , brought up as a Protestant.

I really loved my cousin. He was about a year older than me. Though we went to different churches and different schools. We were very close.

I can remember how proud his Mum was and she gave us a photo of him wearing a sash and praying at his first communion. He became a choir boy.When he come round in his new suit. We had to sit round listening to him sing the mass in Latin, and admire him. Of course he went to the teaching brothers school. I was even went on holiday with him one year with the brothers. the teaching brothers .

His Mum was proud when he went to Catholic Grammar Scool and got his O levels , all grade one.two years early. They were SO poor, but they totally respectful of the clergy. THey lived in a house in the back streets of St Helens that had been condemned before the 1st world war.

These people were as poor as people were allowed to be in 1950's England They gave their love and respect, and they entrusted their child to the care of that church.

When thirty years later, I found out how my little cousin whom I loved, had been abused. It broke my heart that people could be so bloody rotten. Its when its under your nose that the stink appals.