When I was nearly 15, I got quite friendly with a boy who lived just down the street from me. He was only 12, and I liked the way he kind of looked up to me like a big brother.
Adam [name changed – Ed] lived in a small terraced house with his widowed grandmother, whom I thought of as ancient but in reality was probably only in her mid to late 50s. I’m not sure why Adam’s parents were absent from his life – maybe the arrangement was to prevent him being taken into care, but I never asked.