The last day of June. The blood-red blooms of pelargoniums spill from their pots. Petunias, so pink it hurts, blare their petal trumpets....

Sticky fudge and sticky heat. Roads and streets in Grimsby are empty. Everyone's gone to Clee. To see the Red Arrows the pride of nation....

A journal page about some thoughts about teenage years, and the things we lose along the way. Have you got Boo? Have you got Boo? The...