It was 1985, you were Liam's girl. Everyone who knew Liam, knew you. His mum knew about you, his brothers, his friends, his nan, some homeless guy outside the co-op up the road, everyone... because that's all he could talk about.

It was about half past eleven, you were sitting in Liam's shared room with his older brother, Noel, who pretended he hated you when he was around his family but actually frequently came to you for advice. You'd met Liam at your work when he was caught shoplifting about 13 months ago, and ever since then it was puppy love.

Liam was lying back on his top bunk as you sat up next to him, in one of his Manchester City football shirts. It felt like you lived their lives the number of times you'd slept over... His older brother was lying below, both of you listening to the Beatles on his Walkman, trying to fall asleep as it was 11 PM...

"Are ye goin’ to sleep or nawt, woman?" he said in his stupidly thick Mancunian accent. He was sweet when he tried.