My father (Luis) was a child war refugee. Franco, Hitler, and Mussolini had beguiled the world of their innocence, while the reality was the suffering of my father and other children. Four thousand Basque children had arrived in Britain from Spain in 1937, leaving behind the atrocities of a civil war. In 1938, they were… Read More

This was supposed to be a piece on the Chiswick Book Festival until I tuned into Louis Theroux’s post Yewtree programme Looking back on Jimmy Savile on Sunday. Firstly let me state that Theroux has always puzzled me with his faux ingenue fly on the wall style; to sum it up Louis (off the back… Read More