Wingham Close I went to Paul Parker’s house one evening to see a football game he’d devised. With teams and fixtures formulated by him, results were decided on the throw of a dice and an ongoing league table was compiled. Highly impressed, I vowed to incorporate some of his genius into a football game I played at home.
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Playing football games wasn’t as good as kicking a ball around for real, but in the winter months, when it was dark by the time we’d got home and had our tea, it was either that or the telly.
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‘I bought you some shoes in the sales,’ said Mam, looking very pleased with herself. ‘Two pairs, one for now and a bigger pair for later.’
Winkle pickers, bloody hell.
They must have been a bargain for Mam to get two pairs. So what if winkle pickers were yesterday’s fashion. Not many thirteen year old’s owned two pairs of elasticated slip-on winkle pickers, but I did and I was chuffed.
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