This subject, which is dear to my heart, sadly involves my cousin, Lori Cameron (previously Pat Doswell) whom I am no longer in contact with for one reason and one only.
I first reconnected with Lori, when my Dad and I were invited to one of her son’s weddings which, like American/Canadian weddings, was an absolute pantomime. I had not seen her for many years as she had gone to Canada when I was just a boy but, especially post wedding, when we were sitting late at night by a lake with the wolves howling, did we really reconnect but no, nothing happened, even though she was a stunning woman, both outside and particularly inside.
Roll on quite a few years and I was languishing in a state of deep depression, following the death of my beloved soul mate, Liesel. I was working at my internet company but my life was not going anywhere, mainly because I did not care a damn. Lori emailed me and suggested that I came out to Pugwash, Nova Scotia, for a two week holiday so that I could just get away from everything for a while; I jumped at the chance. Even though there was three feet of snow everywhere and it was minus 30 at night, I did not care, as I was having a great time, with my cousin, who I loved deeply.
By this time, she had “turned to god” and was a Seventh Day Adventist. I am not religious at all and am spiritual in my beliefs but I respected her beliefs and anyone else’s for that matter; we cannot all be the same.
Roll on more years and she told my Dad that she wanted to return to the UK and wanted to live in Wales, near her brother. She was pretty broke and so my Dad agreed to buy her a small bungalow, close to one of her churches. I was delighted that she wanted to return as it meant that I could see her more but, in the end, it did not turn out like that.
Not long after she had moved back, my Dad and I fell out and forbade her from speaking to me and visa versa, such was his controlling nature. We both ignored that and continued to email each other.
The time came when she was quite ill and as she lived on her own, I agreed to travel from the Isle of Wight, to look after her; I was there for roughly a week to ten days and by the time I left, she was nearly recovered; all good.
Over the course of the next six months or so, I travelled up to see her; maybe two or three times. During these visits, we talked a lot and the discussion inevitably turned to the family. She told me information that I was completely unaware of, as I had and still am out of the “family picture”, particularly about the amount of money that was being thrown at my brother, as Dad had always considered him the favourite son and continued to make excuse after excuse for Martin for everything that he had failed to do for the family, particularly when my late mother had Alzheimer’s; quite frankly, he has always thought about one person, himself.
Just before my last visit to Wales, she suggested that I moved to her village and, as I had not really settled on the island, consequently becoming quite unhappy, I gave it serious consideration, not that the logistics of moving from the island to Wales was going to be easy or cheap. On the last visit, she even took me to see the bungalow that she had in mind, even though it was under offer. It was run down but I loved it. She even said that if I was able to get it, I could stay at her’s whilst I was doing all of the refurbishment work. Sadly, this never panned out as I could not get a loan to buy it.
A few weeks later, after I had been abruptly kicked out of Lori’s home, I decided to try and get in contact with my daughter again; it had been far too long and even though I had been unjustly accused of abusing her, I wanted to try and reconnect with Verity.
Nothing happened for a day or two and then I received a telephone call from her mother; her tone was rude and combative as usual. To my absolute horror, Verity had forwarded the email to her mother and her mother threatened me with just about everything, although Samantha could not do a damn thing, as Verity was no longer a minor.
I texted her back and the “conversation” got very heated. Then she “said” something that made me pay attention. She said and I quote from my phone
it wasn’t me who accused you. it was her after Pat (Lori’s former name) told us what you had said.
It was actually Lori who triggered the whole horrible saga. On one of my visits, I sat down and asked Lori if she believed I was innocent of all charges. Her response was thus
If I didn’t believe that you were 100% innocent, I would not have ever let you into my home
All the time that we were together in Wales, she was effectively leading a double life and living a lie.
As I never did a damn thing, all I can imagine is that as Lori was so beholden to Dad and was concerned that she would lose the roof over her head, she either told a blatant lie to my Dad or told him about how close we were, both of which would have sent Dad apoplectic.
Her unburdenable guilt clearly got to her and this was what was behind her desire for me to come to Wales; out of sheer, unadulterated guilt.
I am disgusted that someone could live such a lie and, not only that, cosy up to the person who suffered from that lie, whilst at the same time, profess to be religious.
It begs the question as to what else she has lied about. She changed her name because she supposedly “ran away” from abusing husbands BUT we only have her word for that; is it the case that she is actually mentally ill and it was SHE who was behind all of the divorces and, of course, the false allegations that were made about me. She had supposedly roughly 5 ex husbands who all allegedly abused her. Who could be that unlucky? I doubt that this abuse actually happened, certainly not by all of them.
When I sent her an email saying that I was going to come up and talk to her so that I could get to the truth, she had the audacity of threatening me with harassment. If that does not show that she has something to hide, absolutely nothing else will.