Richard Gwilier’s mother, though well-intentioned, was weak and incompetent, and quite genuinely ill-used by life. His overall memory of his father was of several brief appearances, each being terminated by the arrival of the police. Only two memories of his father were highlighted in his mind. One was of a day in the park when they had played football and chased around the trees, and then slithered down the slide together. His father had pushed him high and squealing on the swings, and a sun had shone unexpectedly in his life.
The other was more ambivalent. His father had caught him playing truant and dragged him roughly through the streets to home. His father’s moods being unpredictable, Richard made no small effort to escape, but all to no avail. At home he was thrown equally roughly o
