I DIDN’T know then that I was “clever”. Who does at 14? But most of us were smart enough to stay on the right side of Amy Conway. Tall, thin, bleach-blonde hair, Doc Martens and a green parka, she broke the school uniform rules, as if even the teachers were scared of her! We lived in fear of Amy calling a fight on us. She was hard, the toughest girl in school. That was her legend, her power. 

Some kids have it, an aura, and you could say that’s what drew others to her, why she walked down the school drive with a crowd flowing around her. My friends and I kept a safe distance until we fell out – my friends, I mean, not Amy – she didn’t even know I existed – but you know how teenage friendships can be: best friends and then we weren’t. 

Mags was lonely too, and we became best mates. We tramped through the cold streets at lunchtime to the shop where Mags bought her sandwich; mum made mine. When Mags passed someone she knew she’d say: “Orraight!” I’d just nod and smile - I was with Mags - her greeting came from both of us.