Our friendship galvanized quickly, frequent text exchanges and general enquires about well being were being shared, as well as the occasional social get together and I undertook a session of publicity shots for Jorge, which he used to promote his growing DJ sessions and CD covers, etc.

One evening after one of his gigs we went for a light meal before heading back to our respected homes. This was the first time Jorge really opened up with me. He was born in Algeria, where is mother had abandoned him as a small child. Like a lot of family men in African countries Jorge’s dad had ventured to Europe in serach of work and would send money back to his wife, but as time went on contact between his parents became less frequent and then the money stopped arriving. It was at this time Jorge was sent packing to Portugal to live with his father.

He had not seen his mother since his 8^th birthday. He could recall the time he was taken to the port and placed on the boat with a friend, I could see the emotion and loss in his eyes has he recounted the last touch on his face from his mother and she turn around and walked – she did not look back. Within a couple of days he was living in small room on the outskirts of Lisbon.

His dad had a job in construction, which paid well. His father had remarried a Portuguese women, who in turn resented Jorge for being there and for disturbing the life she had made with his dad. She was also concerned because she knew that Jorge had an older brother back in Algeria and feared he might be the next to arrive, shortly followed by an strayed wife.

This would never happen for a number of reasons. Jorge’s brother was at least 5 years older and was working the small family farm and those it would not make economic sense to send him packing too. Secondly, Jorge’s mother would never leave her home village. She had extended family, including aging parents that needed to be supported.

To make things worse for Jorge his father had taken up drink and whilst not a fully pledged alcoholic, the habit had changed his fathers outlook on life. To ensure he kept his Portuguese wife happy he would punish Jorge for the slightest misdemeanor. When drunk this would turn to all our violence, resulting in Jorge running away as fast as possible for days on end, missing school, etc.

I wanted to ask more, but it was oblivious Jorge was only going to tell me what he wanted to, there were barriers and dark difficult memories that he had not faced up to especially the period when his mother left him, or abandon him as he would say.

Many young people become hardened by life’s bitter experiences this did not seem to happen with Jorge. Whilst he was nobodies fool, Jorge’s mannerisms were shy, often mutter sentences with a calm gentle voice incase he had said something that might upset. He was always asking me, if things were all right, as if he required reassurance to support his fragile confidence.

A year had passed and Jorge was now part of my network of friends, following a days record hunting in the back streets of London’s amazing record shops I informed Jorge that I was having a house party; I invited him and asked if he would like to DJ – which he gladly accepted. During his exchange Jorge asked if he could bring his girlfriend with him and a friend. Again, I accepted and said I would be pleased to meet her and his friend at the party.

On the night of the party Jorge arrived early to set his system up. It was a very hot day, so hot that we had to rush out to a shopping center to buy a large sunshade as the sun was melting his records! The party was in my garden. At about 9pm Flavia, a beautiful Italian lady roughly about the same age as Jorge.

I sat talking to Flavia for a large proportion of the night; she was very intelligent and was studying a social sciences degree at a university at London. I never try to pock my noise in to other peoples business, but was surprised to discover that Jorge and Flavia were living together and had been a couple for more than 1 year. 

I was pleasantly surprised, but at the same time surprised that Jorge had not shared the fact that he had a serious girlfriend. It reinforced my understanding that I only knew the tip of the ice burg of this man. Flavia also shred with me her experience of Jorge’s ‘dark’ moments when he has nightmares about being left at a port side. She would wake up in the early hours to Jorge crouched in a corner of the bedroom, curled up in the fetal position, crying.

Two days after the party I was having lunch with Jorge as a thank you for his DJ services at the party. During our lunch Jorge asked me if I would be his adopted English dad.

Parenthood has been my sensitive point. I was married at 18 and divorced at 24 with two daughters. Through a series of incidents involving my ex-wife’s family violently assaulting me to the point that I was hospitalized, I had not seen my children for over 15 years, I had sought restraining orders and taken appropriate actions through the courts to gain access but to no avail. The only people being torn apart were my children, when my ex-wife remarried pretty soon after out divorce think became worse.

Whilst I regret and live the pain of giving up the fight to have access to my children, I felt ground down after two years of court cases, no access in the mean time, financial broke, threats of violence, I did let go.

Now finding myself being asked to be an adopted parent to a young man who obviously needed support and guidance, who was also roughly the same age as my missing daughters shock me to the timbers. Without hesitation I said yes, unknown to the consequences of my decision.....