31. It was 1:12 a.m. when Father arrived at the police station. I did not see him until 1:28 a.m. but I knew he was there because I could hear him.

He was shouting, “I want to see my son,” and “Why the hell is he locked up?” and “Of course I’m bloody angry.”

Then I heard a policeman telling him to calm down. Then I heard nothing for a long while.

At 1:28 a.m. a policeman opened the door of the cell and told me that there was someone to see me.

I stepped outside. Father was standing in the corridor. He held up his right hand and spread his fingers out in a fan. I held up my left hand and spread my fingers out in a fan and we made our fingers and thumbs touch each other. We do this because sometimes Father wants to give me a hug, but I do not like hugging people so we do this instead, and it means that he loves me.

Then the policeman told us to follow him down the corridor to another room. In the room was a table and three chairs.

He told us to sit down on the far side of the table and he sat down on the other side. There was a tape recorder on the table and I asked whether I was going to be interviewed and he was going to record the interview.

He said, “I don’t think there will be any need for that.”

He was an inspector. I could tell because he wasn’t wearing a uniform. He also had a very hairy nose. It looked as if there were two very small mice hiding in his nostrils. [

He said, “I have spoken to your father and he says that you didn’t mean to hit the policeman.”

I didn’t say anything because this wasn’t a question.

He said, “Did you mean to hit the policeman?”

I said, “Yes.”

He squeezed his face and said, “But you didn’t mean to hurt the policeman?”

I thought about this and said, “No. I didn’t mean to hurt the policeman. I just wanted him to stop touching me.”

Then he said, “You know that it is wrong to hit a policeman, don’t you?”