Hello, I am William.

I was in already my sixth decade, when I discovered that, my conception through rape, in the summer of 1955, (at least according to the Sisters of the Sacred Heart of Jesus and Mary who ran St Pelagia’s Roman Catholic Magdalen Home and Mother and Baby Home for Penitent Girls at 34 Highgate West Hill, London), made me the son of Satan and my birth mother the devil’s whore. Seven months after my birth, and after a suitable donation, to St. Pelagias, ‘a good Catholic family' that would ‘save my soul’ adopted me. Chosen from the cots at St. Pelagias, my ‘funny large nose, white hair, and ruddy cheeks’ betrayed me. The life that came before and after that place remains, at the very least, a tangled mess of wrong turns, psychological turmoil, and loss.

The line in the song ‘My Way,’ goes ‘Regrets … I’ve had a few, but then again too few to mention,’ describing, I believe, a partial life, even an unlived life. To live is to make choices, to take risks, to make mistakes along the way, creating and accumulating regrets. Some regrets are involuntary, are ‘forced’ on us, others, and in the main, are voluntary. As I have aged and reflect on my life, they play a role in my existential balance sheet, often creating challenging evaluations. My version of ‘My Way’ would read Regrets … I’ve had many, but then again, too many to mention. Only not mentioning my regrets would in part invalid my website…

2025 and I live in retirement on the North Wales coast.