Keeping making new friends no matter what

Or how the circle gets much smaller (but there is always room for a couple more)

About four months ago I went with the kids to stay with my mum in south London. It feels weird, like going back in time, as I spent most of of my teens in Anerley and Forest Hill (where I went to school) and my mum lives in the house that used to belong to my best friend’s parents.

Back in the eighties, we spent our time in the upstairs bedroom (which is now where my mum sleeps) listening to De La Soul on her record player, applying ground adzuki beans onto our cheeks (from The Body Shop) - talking about which boys made us horny and planning how to escape to nightclubs in central London without our parents discovering where we were (this was easy back then, it was simply a case of bare-faced lying and having a solid alibi).