'When I told the counsellor from the university, a tall thin man, who went by the name of Bryan Brown, that I was living with a gambler and that as a consequence my life was uncertain and I was not sure I could finish my studies, he raised his eyebrows. We sat in his small office in the Old Arts Building on the second floor of the university, an office tucked away in what felt to me like a broom cupboard. It was part of the student counselling service. The service was free to all students. I went because Delys Sargeant, who took us for Social Biology, had rung the week before to tell me I had failed my Social Biology exam.'(Introduction)