On the day that Christopher Lee died,

the world of Nightmares seemed less important

and as I struggled in my usual, haphazard way to fall asleep

I started counting teeth, the times I had seen

The Hammer House of Horror films helping

in this regard.

 

My father, upright, upstanding, noble of heart,

hated me watching Grange Hill, the non realism, or perhaps

the frightening truth of 1970s education in the heart

of the country at stake, enough to know

that it was a not a television programme for a boy