When I was 12, I ran away looking for a relative, whom I was certain, in that adolescent self-obsessed way, would be looking for me. I was desperately unhappy and troubled, and had stayed away from home for a few hours, but this time, I intended to stay out all night to wait for her.
The boiler had broken at school that afternoon, 19th October 1964, and we were sent home early. I think I went to a friend's first, and then caught a bus, which I stayed on for hours. I have no idea why I chose a churchyard to wait for this person, but settled into position with a sort grim determination to sit, or stand it out until she turned up. I did wonder, during my vigil, if that's what it was, why I waited, but felt compelled to stay. Around 1am the following day, 20th October, I stepped out onto the main road and wandered around. Eventually, a police car pulled up and I was taken to the local station.
There were interviews with social workers, and several questions, but I never did reveal why I was at the church yard. A record was made of the event, and kept in a file.
Decades later, I decided to look for this relative in a more methodical way.