PART EIGHT

Stop.

You are now on Standishgate. Look up to right at the lines of shops ahead of you. I need to leave to go to work now. I notice you taking in the entire high street with every blink you make. You begin to panic. I tell you to close your eyes. Just for a moment. Forget all your stresses, all your worries, leave them here at the top of this street. You helped me out when I needed you, and I’m going to do the same for you. Keep your eyes closed. Breathe in for five seconds. One, two, three, four, five. Breath out for five seconds. One, two, three-

The familiar rumble sounds shifts you to a new memory

You are 18 years old, I’m squeezing your left hand tight. You are looking up to the top of Standishgate. Let’s walk up the road together. You glance back over your shoulder to see if the group of punks that tried to jump us are still following us.. They’re not. As you move up the street you see all your mates appearing around you. All heading to the same place. All heading to the Casino Club.

MUSIC PLAYS - The night by frankie valli and the four seasons.

That place where you went every weekend without fail. It was your church. Your place to let go. To move with you friends to the best music in the world, at the best night out in the world. You start to feel safer. Anticipation is getting stronger. Let’s stop when we are at the entrance to the grand arcade shopping centre.

walk up to the shopping centre

Face the front of the building.

This is where you used to sweat. To move… So much movement. So many bodies pushing to get in. Pay your money and then get out onto that dance floor. That sound! That beat.. Nothing like it and you moved with grace and fierceness, with soul, in your heart and in your feet. Shuffling, sliding, dropping. Surrounded by faces. Not just Northern, Not just wigan. From the world. All of us riding on the wave of Northern Soul. Minutes into hours into all nighters. Feeling the cold of the morning air as we leave hours later. Joy in our hearts to carry us through the week until we can do it all again. Do you remember how we first met? It was on this very dancefloor. The three before eight began to play and everyone was up. The three before eight is always bitter sweet. To know it's the last three songs before its hometime. Before we shuffle away for another week just waiting for these glorious hours. But these three songs, I'll never forget them. They will still be ringing in my ears when I'm old and grey, and I'll always think of you.

We need to keep moving. Look to your right up the slope of Millgate. Hear that whisper drawing you forwards. Let’s move that way and come face to face at last.