18 Toulon Drive is where I lived for the majority of my teenage years. I turned 18 here. And 21. We had some of the best parties ever in this house, especially when mum and dad were away. There were great days of water cricket and hanging out in the spa with my friends. Countless table tennis matches. Our erratic German Shepherd, Caesar, holding court in a fearsome manner at the side gate. Our cat Mischief playing hide and seek with me in the neighbours' gardens in the wee hours when I'd come home. At those late hours I'd turn the engine of mum's car off at the top of the street and roll silently the rest of the way and into the garage to try and not wake mum and dad. I'd then tiptoe up the stairs hoping that I'd arrived home before dad got up to go to work. Sometimes it was a close thing. Once or twice he was already up and I'd have to have a conversation while trying not to give away that I had spent a large part of the night smoking cannabis and was still under its effects. I moved out and back a couple of times but was out for good in 1990 as a 26 year old.
No comments:
Post a Comment