It was about a month after my brothers 21st birthday that we had a formal party, I'd travelled back from London to Whiston in Lancashire and the rare night of a Weldon "do" was upon us.
That year, my younger brother Paul must have been 6 years old and I followed him around the hall watching as he put a handful of peanuts on each table, around 15 peanuts or so, bang in the middle of each table. That was his job, but nobody had explained how, so he made it all up as he went along.
The hall was about a mile from home, and near the end of the party, I grabbed my girlfriend and we snuck out, walking back to the house for a bit of "how is your father", "Percy Filth" or as Austin Powers would say, a good shag.
It was a good night and my personal introduction to Pernod.
Alcohol and time, space, speed of walking, speed of vehicles. It all didn't matter to us, however, perhaps a few minutes into it all, the secret front room was no longer our own as the light went on and (at least) my mum and Auntie Alda strolled in, catching the pair of us at it.
The light went off quickly and the door closed.
And nothing was ever said......
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