When I was ten I thought my brother was God - he'd lie in bed and turn out the light with a fishing rod. I learned the names of all his football team, aid I still remembered them when I was nineteen. Strange the things deal that I remember still - shouts from the playground when I was home and ill. My sister taught me all that she learned there; when we grow up, we said, we'd share a flat somewhere. When I was seventeen, London meant Oxford Street. Where I grow up there were no factories. there was a school and shops and some
fields and trees, and rows of houses one by one appeared. I was born in one and lived there for eighteen years. Then when I was nineteen. I thought the Humber would be the gateway from my little world into the real world. But there is no real world - we live side by side, and sometimes collide. . When I was seventeen, London meant Oxford Street. It was a little world; I grew up in a little world.