Jaye Marie and Anita Dawes

My younger son called round, all in his leathers, booted, gloved and helmeted. Dogs, like many people, are not usually very good with that kind of attire, but Ani heard the bike coming through the village and was waiting. She sees straight through the all-encompassing biker gear to her boy underneath. She looks on him with such love and joy. I grabbed a camera. Of course, she wasn’t still long enough to get a decent picture. But you get the idea. It struck me how far from the preconception of a biker my son is, with the warmth he emanates and his gentleness. And suddenly a song was running through my mind and it took me back to once upon a time and long, long ago.

When I was a teenager there was a boyfriend. He had come into my world in all his glory a few years earlier, a…