Fenella

Alongside my three brothers, I grew up in a small but busy Highland village called Achmore. No internet or shops, but around 20 kids all about my own age. From the crack of dawn we would be running riot, not seeing our parents until we were hungry, and even then it was never your own parents who fed you - it was the closest house. When the World Cup was on we would have the grass cut and our homemade goals up with one of my dad’s old fishing nets for the net. When Wimbledon was on we would have the net across the road, clearing it when a car came (that’s how quiet Achmore was). We all knew it was home time when the streetlights went out.