There were some constants. Most people said they wouldn't be there, they wouldn't be alive, if they hadn't been put under protection, and they wouldn't have been able to give the evidence they gave unless they'd been under protection. They recognized how important the protection process had been.
The other constant was a continuing sense of anxiety and of the difficulties of rebuilding their lives. One of the things that was really striking about these people is that in their day-to-day lives, if the telephone rang or a car pulled up outside their house or a letter came through their letterbox, they suffered chronic anxiety. If they walked down a street, they always felt somebody might be watching them. They found it very difficult to live what we would think of as normal lives.
One of the other real difficulties a lot of them spoke about was that it is incredibly difficult to form new social relationships when you cannot talk about your past biography. Developing any kind of social trust or intimate social relationship involves sharing aspects of your past, and when you have to create a fictional account of your past in order to exist in this new community, it puts huge psychological challenges in front of these people.
So you have this tension between these people saying that they appreciate everything these programs have done in terms of their physical safety, but in terms of their mental state and social well-being, they live with this chronic sense of anxiety. They thought it would fade, but in most of the cases we dealt with, it didn't fade; it just continued with them.