Amanda
When I didn’t recognise the number and saw the text with kisses, but no name — ‘Thinking of you: they’re playing Native New Yorker’, I racked my brain and was filled with shame. Was this the divorced father and one-night stand, or was this someone who had heard me sing in hospital when I was bored out of my mind, or was this a teenage flame rekindling? And then I was relieved to realise it was not a blast from the past, but you who heard me play that record in the Seventies when we were small, who shared with me and knew my childhood home, pets, dad and mum,