In my class at junior school was a girl I’ll always remember. Unlike her pale, ginger, freckly classmates she was dark, exotic and glamourous. She also had a worldly wise maturity unusual in one so young. After we left primary school, I never really saw her again. But over the years, every time I heard this record, I wondered what became of her. So sassy, so exotic, I imagined her as a fashion designer, a movie star or the beautiful wife of a Monaco-based billionaire. And I was sure that wherever she was now, she’d have changed her name to erase all trace of her less than exotic beginnings. This week I found out. She lives in Rayners Lane and has been happily married for thirty years to a bloke she went to school with.
For years I wondered where she went to.

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