I remember the thump of little feet in the night, a breathless lunge a small child careening into my bed and my sleep.
I remember shouting at my Dad.
I remember sitting on a low wall, in hot sun, picking mica off the pebbledash of our house wall and watching ants.
I remember waking – horrified, horrified.
I remember laughing until the tears pooled in my clavicle.
I remember the sour crunch of apples from our apple tree.
I remember happy boredom, doing nothing much but doing it together.
I remember being the apple of your eye……
I remember waking on a wipe-clean mattress in a small room with a high, barred window.
I remember feeling scared.
I remember stepping out into space, breath held, groping for something to trust.
I remember the smell of clean skin.
I remember the sharp-and-sweet of raw rhubarb and a bag of sugar, the poor child’s dip-dab.
I remember the sound of bees, insects, bringing the orchard hummingly to life.
I remember lying on warm grass, the weight of the sun pressing me into the earth.
I remember the smell of a cat, his head earnestly rubbing my cheek.
I remember the relief as the alcohol burned my mouth.
I remember it all.