"And the lies that Jeff told me. Let me count the ways There was the time he told me he was sick in hospital, St Paul's, with stomach cancer. He was trying to get out of taking this trip with me, as he did not want to face the police in London and who knows what other lies of his would get exposed? I got a phone call from him about it, anyway, so I went to the hospital to see him there, functioning still on very limited sleep. I asked at reception and they had no record of him being there.
"I went up to the chapel in the hospital for quiet prayer. Some women were having a prayer service, so I sat in the very back to stay out of their way. Apparently, I was not wanted there. I had fallen asleep, they decided I was some sort of vagrant and called security, and this poor security guard very reluctantly and shamefacedly had to escort me out of the hospital. I will never forget the look of absolute fear and loathing on the sanctimonious face of the good catholic woman who had me thrown out. I imagine there is a special place in hell for her kind.
"But even that nasty little lesson was not going to be enough to dissuade me from wanting to help and heal poor lost little Jeff. I was really every bit as pathetic, stupid. lonely and lovelorn as was Dianne with her ridiculous little boy man of an addict. But I was caught up in the emotion and I also sensed somehow that God's hand was in it. I still believe to this day, that despite the absolute stupidity of my choices and actions, that there was a divine purpose and intent and I was soon to find this out the only way I could learn it. On my own. The hard way..."
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