To call this too much information would be a bit of an understatement. I am struggling right now to get my head around a father who has been so inadequate, so cruel, brutal and perverted as to utterly erase in his children any sense of filial love or affection for him. I who never ever once had to do without everything that I needed in a father. A man who raised me with care, diligence and affection, a man who never would have dreamed of doing or hinting at anything at all inappropriate to his child, a man on whose lap I could sit even when I was a child of twelve, whom I could hug and kiss and cuddle next to. That anyone with a father should have to be deprived of love and affection from the very man who sired them!
"Are we going to tell Francois?" says Carl suddenly.
"Do you want him to know?"
"Yes, I do."
"He no longer hears confessions."
"Doesn't matter. He's part of this now with us. He is entitled to know He has a right to know."
"Okay, but you are the one who is going to set it up with him."
"Please, Chris", says Carl, pleading, "Please be there for me."
"I will..."
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