I would have been 9 or 10 years old.

Actually, I don't remember much about him. I don't remember how I made friends with him, or how long it lasted, but I do remember his face, his name, and one or two isolated details.

When my parents separated they sent me to an orphanage in Madrid for "families without means." There were 8 or 10 beds in each bedroom. Samuel had the bed next to mine, beside the window.

Every night, after the nuns turned out the lights and went away, I got into Samuel's bed. We took off our pyjamas and kissed and caressed until we fell asleep.

In the mornings, the nun came and opened the shutters in all the rooms. The shutter in the room next door was broken and when it was opened it made a sound against the window. The sound rang throughout the college, and when I heard it I would jump back into my bed.

Samuel thought it was so funny to see me leap out of his bed, and we'd laugh when we couldn't find our pyjamas or underwear.

As I said before, I don't remember how long we did this, only that it was what we always did.

One morning, we were didn't get our customary wake-up from the blind. Perhaps they'd fixed the blind, or I just didn't hear it. Or perhaps the nun had started from the other end of the building.

Whatever the reason, she caught us in the same bed. She woke me by boxing my ears and she dragged me into the corridor. Samuel was luckier because they didn't blame him at all, for which I'm grateful. The nun slapped my face and spanked my bottom. Then she assembled all the children in the corridor and explained to them, in great detail, her version of events.

I had to stay there naked in front of everyone, embarrassed and crying. I didn't look directly at them, but I remember that there was a deathly hush.

I broke away from the clutches of the old cow and ran down the corridor to the stairs, intending to throw myself down. I was so angry! I wanted to end my humiliation but I just couldn't jump. I remember staring down to the darkness below. That was the only time I have seriously thought about ending my life and now, whenever I think about it I ask myself what would have happened if I'd jumped, and I'm glad I didn't do it.

Another nun, an ample older woman who did the cooking, covered me with her apron and whispered something kindly in my ear, but I don't remember what she said. Just as I can't remember the reaction of my companions afterwards.

They put me in the infirmary. They gave me a different bedroom and, for a while, didn't let me eat with the other children. Apart from that everything continued normal. All except Samuel and me, who didn't kiss and cuddle again.

If this happened to me now I would escape from the nun, take Samuel by the hand and we'd go far away, where no-one could find us. But at the age of 9, and being used to obeying adults, this didn't enter my head. As it was, I felt as guilty as if I were a criminal or had committed a serious crime.

My life was overshadowed by this event and it was years before I began to lose my fear, and feel good about myself once again. How different things would have been if I'd had a friend to explain my feelings to me, or if only the nun had not discovered me and humiliated me. That ordeal robbed me of the pleasure of exploring my developing feelings.

And who will give me back my childhood? Will God?

Nando