Months passed, and his time in the Lincoln Memorial hospital became a routine. The drugs he was being given had calmed him, providing him with a new clarity. His sessions with Dr. Ambrose had stalled - and Dr. Ambrose had warned him that a vital part of his treatment would be to open up and discuss his past and his feelings.

Dr. Ambrose had told him that he was ill - and that part of the recovery to being well was to speak openly and honestly about his life, especially his relationships at an early age.

He was laying on a black pleather chaise in Dr. Ambrose’s office. Dr. Ambrose was sitting in a chair and was sipping coffee and reading notes.

Dr. Ambrose cleared his throat - ‘You’ve made good progress since you joined us.’

He stared at the ceiling.

‘But I feel it’s time we speak about a subject that you’ve been reluctant to talk about…’

‘My mother’ - he said, still staring at the ceiling.

‘Yes - tell me about your mother’ - Dr. Ambrose began.

‘I think my mother was a prostitute…’

Dr. Ambrose scribbled down some notes - ‘And what makes you think this?’

‘I saw her take money from men - and then…’

‘And then what?’ - Dr. Ambrose asked, looking up from his notes.

‘...and then have sex with them.’

‘And how did you see this?’

There was a long silent pause…

‘I made a hole in my bedroom wall - and I watched them.’

Dr. Ambrose continued making notes - ‘You watched your mother have sex with these men?”

‘Yes.’

Dr. Ambrose looked up from his notes, and thought for a moment - ‘And did you watch your mother at other times?’

‘Yes.’

‘And what were these other times?’

‘When she was showering. I watched her through the keyhole.’

‘And did you fantasize about your mother, in a sexual way? Did you want to be those men who were with her?’

Another long silent pause. Dr. Ambrose sipped some coffee, making a slurping noise.

‘Yes - yes I did.’

‘And did you and your mother ever have a sexual relationship?’

A tear rolled down his face from his eyes towards his ear - ‘Yes.’

Dr. Ambrose turned and passed him a box of tissues - ‘We can stop if you feel you’re not up to this.’

The man wiped his eyes - ‘No, I’ll continue.’

‘And how long did this sexual relationship with your mother last?’

‘For two years - until she died. She died in a car crash.’

Dr. Ambrose made some notes - ‘And what feelings do you have now - when you think of your mother?’

He burst into tears, crying and sobbing. He had never been honest with himself or anyone - ‘I don’t know what to feel….I think about it now, and I feel so dirty and wrong. When it was happening I guess I enjoyed it - but now I think - I feel that my mother should have stopped it from happening. She should have said no!’

He continued to cry - and Dr. Ambrose continued to make notes - ‘Well done, I think you’ve been very brave today. I think we should end our session now.’

He nodded and continued to cry.