It's difficult to remember exactly the course of events and length of time that Marie was with John, but I know that before too long had passed by, she had managed to rent a house in Mitcham which would become your home for quite some time.

I don't know how often I would come to see Marie whilst she was living at John's, but I can only really recall one occasion, when he was out of the house and I spent an hour or two there chatting with Marie.

There was still an element of cat and mouse about other people knowing about me, I think mainly because Marie wanted to get a divorce without anyone else being cited as co-respondent in the termination of her marriage.  Therefore there was more than one occasion when I was alone in the Mitcham house with Marie when, if there was someone who came to the door, I would have to disappear into the back garden and hide until the visitor had gone.  I remember this being her brother on one occasion, but there were others as well.

It was a very comfortable house which Marie made into a home for you both.  Marie was still deflecting quite a lot of grief from her husband, who at that time was technically both still her husband and still your father.

Consequently he would appear regularly at her Mitcham home to see you and remonstrate with Marie.

I would also spend some time there and I have a number of very warm memories of that time.  Things I remember are Marie feeding you in your bedroom.  She had a big wooden rocking chair, which she would sit in, cradle you in her arms and feed you before you went to sleep.  I've always thought that this is one of the most wonderful things to witness.  A small child, maybe five or six months old, taking a bottle of milk in a warm, quiet room with dimmed lights and gently going off to sleep.

Once asleep I would stand over your cot and just watch you sleep and wonder what on earth was going on in your mind.  Babies are fascinating little people.  To watch you sleeping and listen to your breathing whilst you slept was just fascinating and made me think about when it would be my turn to have a child of my own.

I've always loved children and my experiences with you and Marie served only to strengthen my caring for them.

I would also bath you on occasions with Marie, a great fun time for you but I do remember feeling a little uncomfortable bathing you at first.  I don't understand why, but nevertheless I did enjoy the experience.

I don't know how often that happened, but there were two other small things which I remember from that time. 

One was a small white cloth which Marie used as a bib when you were feeding.  I remember seeing it on the bedroom drawers one day, and I smelt it, because I could smell you on the cloth.  I don't want this to sound strange, as friends of mine with children have recalled similar experiences, but smelling that cloth was somehow comforting for me.  I guess a stimulus to one sense is very similar to a stimulus to others.  If I had seen you with my eyes I would have been happy, so I guess if I can smell you with my nose a similar experience can be enjoyed.

The other thing I remember very clearly was seeing you come downstairs.  The stairs in the house were quite steep and at the time I don't think you were more than 9 months old.  You couldn't speak, but you could understand everything that was said to you. Marie reminded you to come down the stairs properly and at first I was aghast seeing this toddler coming down the stairs with her tummy to the stairs and reversing down one step at a time.

I was sure you were going to tumble all the way down, but confident that Marie wouldn't let any harm come to you I watched in fascination at this feat, which I believed to be impossible for a child of your age.

It must have been around that time that Marie told me you were walking at 8 months.  I have always known that I was walking at 9 months, which was considered to be very early, so to hear that you were only 8 months old and walking gave me a kind of reflected glory, but no clue that you were really my daughter.  I think that Marie was a 9 month walker as well so obviously it was down to her as far as I was concerned at that time.

I can also remember being so incredibly impressed with Marie as a mother.  She was spending 24 hours a day with you, seven days a week and even the best behaved baby in the world can test the patience of a saint at times.  I always remember you as being a very well behaved, content and happy baby and I'm sure that was completely due to the way on which Marie brought you up and gave you the attention and stimulus you needed.  She really was a natural and wonderfully caring mother which gave you the very best start, despite a number of testing circumstances at the time.

Despite this very warm feeling I had to both you and Marie there was still something which was stopping me from getting closer to Marie than the occasional visit to Mitcham and the very regular phone calls.

My recollection is that Marie was adamant that she would divorce her husband but that it would be due to the irreconcilable breakdown of the marriage, which meant that it would have to be two years of separation from her husband if a divorce under that category was to be achieved.

I can't tell you how long two more years of this kind of behaviour seemed to me at that time.

It seemed like it was a point over which there was to be no negotiation.  The idea of being divorced because of adultery didn't sit well with Marie and all of the other options were non starters so the only option that she was prepared to consider was this two year separation.

On top of that, as her husband was 'your father' there was the matter of him having access to you, so he started to see you at the weekends.

I guess the only good thing to come out of that was that you disliked the experience so much that ultimately it was that which pushed Marie to question your parentage and eventually managed to break all ties with her former husband.  But that was a few years later.

At this point I felt drained, a little let down because I really didn't want Marie to leave Manchester let alone set up home in Mitcham - pleasant as it was, and I guess I really still didn't know where I stood with Marie.  I think that there may have been a confusion in my mind between what she said and what she did.  Of course this is as much my fault as anyone else's as I don't remember sitting down and being honest and open with her about my feeling for her and you.

I'm sure she knew how much I cared for you both, but I just didn't talk about it or take control strongly enough.  In fact I know that she knew what I thought about you, even if I mentioned it as a throw away line.  I remember very clearly driving around a roundabout close to my parents home and being on the car phone to Marie.  Quite early on in the conversation I still remember distinctly asking Marie ' and how's my daughter ?'.

We both laughed, but I really did think of you that much.  I also remember speaking with my mum about you both.  I don't know at what critical time in my relationship with Marie it was, but I guess it must have been at one of those crucial moments when things came to a head.  I had been talking about it all with mum and, like a lot of mum's, she's very astute and knows exactly what's going on in her son's life without me telling her and sometimes before I've even done it.  She remarked to me that I wished that you were my daughter, and I agreed that I did.

I've said before that knowing the truth was no excuse for doing nothing about my feelings for both you and Marie.  All I can offer in my defence is that given the circumstances I was in at the time I thought I was doing the right thing.  Of course hindsight is a wonderful thing, and with the benefit of hindsight I would do things very differently a second time around.

Sadly, that luxury cannot be afforded me, so I await my opportunity to rectify the situation in whatever way you will allow me.