Father story part one.
I was born the son of a Ginger bee gee. Photos of my christening in 1974 show my slim father with full red flowing locks looking like the tallest bee gee. My memory of my Dad is snapshot mind photos such as sitting with him on the sofa as he layer on his side and I was positioned in the small space his legs made. This felt like the safest place in the world as well as my parents bed in the morning. My Dad was a working man but he was a man who would come home with a different job even though he should have held down a job because he had three kids to feed. I remember him being a lorry driver, a taxi driver, a plumber and a hairdresser. He was a man of big plans but seemed to get bored easily. My parents opened a bakery/shop and seemed to be doing well in our village. At this stage I was about five and spent too much time alone with everyone being busy. I had nightmares that I vividly remember still because they were recurring themes. I was seven when my mum got rid of my dad and my brothers and I were visiting my dad living with his mum, my gran.  I learnt later that my dad was secretly terrible with money and that we had the bailiffs turning up to evict us because we had not paid bills. My mum didn't know this and she rallied friends and family to bail us out at short notice. 
But to me, all I knew was my dad was not around and with no explanation I was left missing him and so I presumed he missed me. 

Continued tomorrow.