Roddy Wright became famous as the Scottish bishop who resigned to be with the woman he loved - and then admitted to having fathered a child by a previous relationship. This is his supposedly frank story, beginning with a working-class Glasgow childhood, interspersed with idyllic visits to relatives in the western isles, ordination and the priesthood. It is an ordinary story told without passion. Too much is left unsaid. He skims the issues of loneliness and fatherhood, and fails to explain fully why, against his allegedly better judgment, he agreed to become a bishop. He had known Kathleen McPhee for years. She is now his wife. What happened, happened. But blandness - presumably in the interests of privacy - weighs down the book. One reads it wanting to learn more about how the Church reacted, what was said behind the scenes, how is it for a priest who is a priest supposedly forever, and yet on the outside. He once sat in a car near a church and followed the rites as they were being recited inside. This is one of the more moving moments in a book that is wretchedly sad. But one suspects that the obsession with tabloid intrusions is not the real story.