The Keys We Carried



He left the keys and carried regret

I found the keys and carried a broken heart

Elderly man in black cap and striped scarf leans on railing overlooking a canal in a black and white photo.

 

Here I revisit a place from my youth — a place filled with experiences that shaped me and set me on the path to becoming who I am today. Returning there meant retracing the footsteps of a shared past, revisiting spaces still carrying echoes of who I once was. There was something powerful in standing in those places again. Feelings I thought had long disappeared reawakened for a fleeting moment, like muscle memory untouched by time. But instead of reopening old wounds, the experience brought peace — an understanding that life unfolded exactly as it was meant to.

 

Three young men smiling together in a 1983 nightclub, wearing casual tank tops and holding a glass.
A crying young woman in a dark coat uses a red phone booth on a rainy city street at night.

The night we met in the summer of 1983

Calling dad. A recreated image depicting my heartbreak after I found  the keys in the hallway.

 

Why did we return?



I returned because a part of me still needed to heal. He returned because he understood why it mattered. Nothing asked to be revisited, but something inside me did. My first love left the keys in the hallway and walked away, carrying the regret. I found the keys in the hallway and carried a broken heart, along with the weight of what might have been. In that shocking, gut-wrenching moment, everything changed. The pain of first love is pure, open and honest. You give yourself completely, without knowing how deeply it can hurt. It leaves something behind in all of us, woven quietly into the people we become.

Black and white photo of a person standing under a one-way street sign in the opposite direction against a brick wall.
Hand holding a bundle of antique rusty skeleton keys on a ring at a train station.
Man in a black coat holding a vintage photograph outdoors near a venue sign.

Strange Little Coincidences


Many years have passed. There's no blame, just a gentle acceptance that all is as it should be. In every photograph, he's carrying the symbolic keys back to me. We revisited the places that had quietly become part of our story: the station that first brought him into Wigan, the streets we wandered together and the single Paris Match by The Style Council, which became our song. Passing a hairdresser called 'The Style Council' felt like one of those strange little coincidences life occasionally gifts you. Whether it was chance or something else, it made us smile.

Black and white photo of a man standing outside The Style Council barber shop with a checkered facade.
Man sitting on bench at Wigan Wallgate train station platform, relaxing beside advertisement boards.
Black and white photograph of a train station platform with a large staircase and industrial architecture.

A Memory Took Shape



He danced to Expansions by Lonnie Liston Smith, where the nightclub once stood. It was natural and totally unguarded. A memory took shape right in front of me. It was more powerful than I can put into words.

Black and white photo of a man in a cap and coat kicking his leg up on a cobblestone street near a brick wall.
Black and white photo of a young man in a beanie and jacket walking on a cobblestone path beside a brick wall.
Man in cap and scarf walking on cobblestone path in black and white urban street photography.
Man in flat cap and jacket performing a high kick on a cobblestone path with a clock tower in background.
Black and white photo of a man in a beret dancing on cobblestones near a brick wall with a church tower behind.
Man in flat cap and striped scarf walks confidently on cobblestone path beside brick building in black and white photo.

 

Directing the Narrative


Some people aren't meant to stay in our lives forever, no matter how deeply they were loved. Photography gave me back a sense of control. This time, I was directing the narrative — something I never had the first time around. What an incredible gift. Through these images, I was finally able to hold those memories in front of me long enough to understand them and gently let them go. I'm forever grateful for his willingness to walk (and dance) those memories with me and, in doing so, allow me to heal.

 

Man descending stairs at Wigan Wallgate train station, holding yellow railing, wearing dark jacket and jeans.
Bald man in jacket and jeans stands on an empty road with a historic building in black and white.
Black and white photo of a person standing outside the historic Wigan Pier brick building in Wigan, England.
Woman in black ruffled dress holds vintage pocket watch as two men walk away on a park path.

Is 'The Keys We Carried' linked to a past life?


Some stories feel imagined. Others arrive so vivid they demand to be told. For years I've wondered where 'Still Waiting for You' came from. Was it simply an idea sparked by history and my imagination? Or was it something deeper—memories, emotions or fragments of a story that somehow found their way through my camera? I'll never know the answer. But if you've ever experienced that strange feeling of recognising a place you've never been, or carrying a sadness you can't explain, perhaps you'll understand why this project has stayed with me for so long. Read more . . .