'I first met my father Jack McIntosh when I was six years old and he was 28. One day a strange man was sitting at the kitchen table. I thought he was a visitor but Mum said, “Give your father a kiss”. I stamped my foot and ran outside, bawling loudly. “No, no, he’s not my father. I won’t kiss him. I won’t.” Mum said later I wouldn’t come inside until she promised to buy me an ice cream. He was always around after that.' (Introduction)