For the next few weeks Morgan would walk four miles to the car park, an isolated spot along a B-road, and engage sexually with mostly middle-aged men. He became “known” and had regulars who would wait for him. At the time, Morgan saw nothing wrong with what he was doing. He relished the gratification and the confidence it instilled in him. It would be years before he understood that as a 14-year-old boy he legally couldn’t give consent and was being raped.

On one return journey from the car park Morgan took a short cut through a field. He noticed someone following him, a young man, 20 at a stretch, who he’d not seen at the car park. He quickened his pace then hid among the crops. When he thought the coast was clear he returned to the narrow path and carried on walking. The attacker charged at him, knocked him down, smashed his face into the ground with one hand and ripped off his jeans with the other. He doesn’t remember walking home. He never returned to the car park.

“It didn't start affecting me emotionally until about six to eight months later,” says Morgan. When he stumbled across the number for a rape crisis helpline in the back of his school diary he dialled and asked for help. “Nothing in it really said it was for girls, or anything like that. But I was told very bluntly down the phone that this number is for women and girls. I remember her saying ‘men are the abusers, women are the victims, we need to terminate this call now so we can help victims’. I remember just hanging up. She didn't finish her sentence.”