Suzie asked me if I’d play a Christmas concert at Burn Park church, and I said yes. I haven’t been there since I was fourteen, I wrote about the place here, and it’s dear to my heart. It was a refuge for me when I was a kid and life wasn’t kind.
I set up in the church at about half five, then nipped through a side door and walked along a corridor to the place where we all used to meet up. Sat in a seat, saw myself sitting there aged thirteen with Mark, Mickey, Heather, Carol and the others, everyone older than me, looking after me; a place where I never needed to be tough or defensive or tell lies. It all came back to me; I cried.
I texted my girl Ruthie and told her where I was. She texted back, ‘Gd memories?’
‘Safe memories,’ I texted back.