I have four older siblings and one younger. What I was told when I was thirty-eight was that my four older siblings had known most of my life that my real father was H, as, indeed, had K. K never wanted me to know, and my older siblings acquiesced in this, believing it to be for the best. H was a teacher in a local Catholic primary school, and my mother came to know him because two of my older brothers went to that school. She met him at a parents’ evening. He was already married, and had three children with his wife, with whom he still lived; that family played a large role in the local Catholic community. He also lived close to my mother and the two families knew each other: H’s children and my older Hamilton siblings were on friendly terms. My mother and H began an aff air that lasted two to three years: she says three, he says two.