I could see the bright lights of the Barracuda Fish and Chip Shop as a cheery spot in front of me. The door opened; smell and music spilled out. Fish and chips and doner kebabs and Build me Up Buttercup with all its warm yellowness. I sang along. I would be home soon.
Most teenagers don’t want to be seen dead with their parents, let alone dance with them, but for some reason, I knew magic was being created in this little Dee Why record shop.