I’ve been happy before and I’ve been happy after, but, swinging along the front at Brighton with Nora and our Uncle Perry, not a care in the world, it was the first time I was old enough and wise enough and knew my way about my own feelings well enough, to put it into words: ‘Goodness! I’m happy!’ When I think of happiness, I always think of Brighton, and of that August bank holiday when I was thirteen, because we did the heights and depths that day. How frail a thing your happiness can be! We went from the ridiculous to the sublime, and broke our hearts as well.