We start this one with a bit of chaos, as usual, a catch-up about gigs, half term, the price of fireworks and the ongoing trauma of David Walliams audiobooks (because honestly, why is he everywhere?). But once we’ve had our rant, we’re heading back to South London for a story that’s as shocking as it is tragic. In December 1969, Wimbledon was the picture of quiet suburbia, Christmas lights, family dinners, and that post-holiday haze where no one quite knows what day it is. But on Arthur Road,...
Show more...