After the trial was over I spent some more time in therapy, coming to terms with my issues and going over conquered ground. It was fun; I got to talk as if I really mattered. I wasn’t a failure anymore. I was a brave survivor, who had dared speak out in court against his ex-abuser. For a while, it was almost exhilarating. But it didn’t last for long. The feeling of triumph faded. I found myself back where I’d started; the little lame boy on the mountainside, listening for echoes.

Nowadays I rarely feel, and just as rarely dream. Perhaps it’s because I’m older. Perhaps everyone has a limited capacity for strong feelings, which I exhausted in childhood. Now there’s nothing left but that relentless internal counter, that says: Thirty-two more years to go. Less, if you get cancer. Cancer’s what killed Harry Clarke. That, and what happened with Poodle.

For a while, I drifted. I suppose I was missing the limelight. I did a couple of interviews, sold my story to the Mail, and then looked around for something else. By then I had passed the point at which killing a dog or a rabbit would help. The thrill of pushing Poodle that time had receded into the past. Even the much greater thrill of pushing Goldie had faded.

Survivors saved my sanity. With the help of Miss McRae, the little hotline grew and grew. Survivors, it seemed, wanted to talk, and there were lots of them around. Miss McRae kept on with my therapy, and from time to time, I would come to talk at one of her meetings. Goldie sometimes came along. He’d stayed in touch with Miss McRae throughout the trial and afterward, and she was the one who got him involved, first as a part of his therapy, then as a counselor in his own right.

By then, Johnny was already training to be a teacher. His connection with the Church meant that he was in touch with motivational speakers from all around the world. And he was good; much better than I was. People liked and trusted him. Gradually, his influence took hold. What had been a small weekly discussion group evolved into a national resource. We had a free hotline, staffed by volunteers; we became a registered charity. Johnny wrote a series of motivational pamphlets (he’d already written some for the Church) and even published a little book called The Survivor’s Gospel. All of this served his career, of course. Even as a teacher trainee, he was fast-tracked for success. Now, as a Head, he organizes visits to schools to talk to staff and pupils on how to spot potential abuse, what counts as abuse in the first place, and recently, online grooming.