Every Summer Sunday we went to the south coast for the day. Mum, dad, me and Shandy, the dog. Our regular haunts were Eastbourne, Brighton and Southend-on-Sea. I think we went out because if we stayed home there would have been a row, or maybe worse. In the Autumn we returned to Southend to see the lights, a special treat as the dark evenings drew in. A walk along the sea front, oohing and aahing at the decorations strewn between lamp posts, displays that winked on and off, a happy clown, a sad clown. Although not on the scale of Blackpool’s famous illuminations, Southend enjoyed a considerable popularity in its own neck of the woods and many thousands of people thronged along the pier and promenade to marvel at the sights. Along the cliff face various tableaux were arranged and it was here I remember the shock of grasping a hand I thought was Mum’s only to discover it was that of a stranger. The moment was only fleeting as Mum w...