OPINION: There's a point where you can do no more

Take a young man I once knew called Nick, for instance. One time he stared through the passenger door window of my car. He wanted to borrow a tenner.

His girlfriend needed a pregnancy test, he said. He was desperate. Yes, he was desperate. I saw the glazed eyes of a young man who had been regularly using heroin for the previous three years. And I knew he was after another dose of "brown".

Nick had been a great kid. He was good looking, communicative and co-operative. He took great care of his appearance. He was a very regular member of the youth club. We got on well together. He had come away with me on numerous weekends. Indeed, even after he started using brown, I took him away to help him get off it. I probably put him through hell over two or three days, but within days of coming back home he was on it once again. I never wanted to give up on Nick, but it was a never-ending battle against the tide. Treatment services, on the few occasions he asked about them, were a long way down the track: he'll have to wait a few months for an appointment, I was told. Nick stole routinely from his family.