I was brought up in rural Norfolk by my older sister and her husband. Both were good honest working people, particularly my brother-in-law who was a kindly and fatherly man.
When I was about 10 years old, I was accosted in a churchyard by a man who was on the run from the police. He didn’t physically harm me but he was threatening and asked me to get him some food. I went back to my sister’s house and took a large pork pie, and gave it to the man in the churchyard.
It turned out my sister had planned on serving the pie to some friends who were coming round for a meal. She went nuts when she found it was missing and blamed me. However, at pretty much the same time she found out, the police came to the door to say that they’d apprehended the man on the run and he’d admitted to stealing a pie from the house, so I was on the clear.
Since then it’s really eaten away at me and I feel guilty every time I see her. Would you tell her the truth about the pie? I’m in my late 20s now and work in London, but I still feel bad about it.