Elizabeth

Difficult knowing how much to say. I grew up with her and because of her. Left, me in '69 and her in about '70. Follies a dues or what. Intense bastards we were. We used to eat children out on the Southport moores, for a laugh, while singing Frank Eifield's greatest hit. We were hard. Her, Sociology, cutting edge, me fucking Artist in your face, bourgesoise bastard.
What a delight she was.

Jeanette asked me to look out for her mate coming to see her at Southport College, Jinny was too busy with crochet post modern or something. Me and Phil sat on the steps and there she was a bloody four-eyed pixie dressed in a hippy dance of the seven veils rig. He tried to do the 'What star sign are you, bet I can guess?' routine, I still have a mate like that, anyway Phil was in love with Bottecelli Jeanette so was only being friendly to say 'I looked after your mate.' It was obvious, she was smitten with me or someone standing behind me she could see over my shoulder, lot of cool guys at Southport.
She was doing a Degree, at a proper University, I was well  impressed so showed her my poetry, nailed to a cros in the main studio.

She thought it was quite good. YES. For some reason I was involved in the Arts Ball (we had Chicken Shack and Bert Janse) and had all these tickets I was selling, and of course keeping the money. A couple to Jeanette and 'one for that friend of yours, no pressure.' Cutie pie came and ended up sitting on my knee, no chairs, you understand. I did have on a yellow waistcoat and a thirties kneck scarf, I was irrisistable. She came back to my place, one room with a sloping roof, we used to write on the ceiling, bits of poetry, jokes. That night I wrote 'I am a bear.'

Above '72 Hull

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