The upstairs of a house offered four small rooms and a bath. My room, about 10x12 feet, was on the front. It provided shelter, a place to study, listen to music, and enjoy, well, lots of sex. The details are elsewhere in these pages. It was bare-bones, but not unlike student digs the world over at the time.
Far all that it was meagre, it was actually the first place I had lived that I could properly think of as my home. I was financially independent by virtue of having several jobs, though always short of funds. I was managing every aspect of my own life and for the first time really using the kit of skills I'd built up as a kid. For the most part, it was working.