A childhood in grainy black and white, schoolmasters with black gowns and canes, bleak front parlours in fawn and brown, distant fathers back from the war, the muffled sounds of ships' fog horns at the mouth of the Tyne, toasting bread on forks in front of coal fires, inkwells and wooden pens with push-on nibs, treadle powered sewing machines, coal men with mediaeval faces and spavined horses, the harsh cries of rag and bone men, waterlogged knitted swimming costumes, catching sticklebacks in the stream behind the railway line, holding newspapers over fires to draw the air in, Bairns-Wear grey pullovers, beetle drives, Titbits and Reveille, sex being dirty, playing in the woods on damp November afternoons, sodden leather footballs on muddy pitches, soot blackened civic buildings, sticky paper flycatchers and whizzers - the metal canisters that propelled our bills and money across a forest of ceiling wires to the stern cashiers at the ends of the department stores ...