by Simon Crump for Guardian Unlimited/Books
“Bonfire night was never a happy time for my granddad.
As a child in the early 1960s, I half-remember seeing him standing on the edge of the gaggle of family who weren’t really family, friends who weren’t really friends, aunts who weren’t really aunts and uncles who weren’t really uncles. All of us strung out around the fire – which was always a proper destructive fire. Granma’s chance to dispose of everything.”