From my young days as a child visiting a makeshift chest clinic in a terraced house on Walton’s Parade’ in Preston clutching the latest copy of ‘Sunny Stories’, by Enid Blyton, who became a firm favourite, to my stacks of ‘Nova’ magazine which had to be abandoned in a flat on Cheetham Hill as I made an escape from a dubious flatmate, I have been hooked.
In the early days of ‘Bunty’ and ‘Girl’, we were lucky to have them delivered with the newspaper and I only had to make the effort when ...
