I got a friend called Lauren we’d chat over the fence, for hours and hours we go at it, just chatting you know nonsense.

I’d tell her about my fears and woes and yes she’d tell me hers, I would have shown her all my welts and scars, for they were plain to see, but I thought that happened to everyone to everyone not just we.

I’d stand out by our garden fence and she’d come out back to chat, we’d natter away till it was dark or called in, so it happened just like that.

Then one of us would get shouted in, the interrogation starts.  What were you chatting about, to that kid, that f…ing little tart?

Lauren was about nine or ten, I cannot rightly say, I’d reply oh nothing much, like we had nothing much to say as an unforeseen vicious clout made contact . . . shit that one made me sway.

It’s how it was for me my childhood years, my routine from day to day, I’d see her by the garden fence, so I’d sneak out back to play.

Then it happen on that fateful day, I went out to the fence, but to no avail she was not there my childhood friend of confidence.

She’d left she’d gone and moved away not to come and speak no more.  I looked and looked nearly every day at fence, to see if she would come.

I lost contact with my childhood friend and with that my friend had gone.  Never did see her, my childhood friend no more, I miss the fence, I miss our chats, back fifty years or more.

But as I grew into an older man I’d think of her now and then,  I’d  sometimes think of my childhood friend, I’d wonder where she’d been.

I wonder what become of her and what she may have seen, I just hope her life’s been kind to her and I hope she’s lived her dream.

Maybe she’s a wife by now may even have children of her own.  I hope that be the case you know don’t like thinking of her alone.

They got this thing called Facebook a page called 1970 Southmead on it, but I only had her childhood name so that’s no good is it.

So I posted up some pictures and posted up some posts I lost myself in memories I got so well engrossed.

Then I got a message from my childhood friend, saying she’s safe and well, got married to a chap called Orville who seems real sound as hell.

She tells me that she loves him, she says he treats her right and that they have some grandchildren that like to shout and fight.

So if you have a long lost friend wrapped up deeply in your heart, never give up hope off searching as Facebook a right good place to start.