Dancing in the Mardi Gras club in Liverpool in 1970, I couldn’t help but notice a lad across the dance floor.
‘Wow, that guy can really dance!’ I said to my friend, gesturing to the boy who was busy busting a move.
Despite being just 16, I was in my element.
I’d never had any dance lessons but I loved music and dancing came naturally to me, which is more than I could say for most of the guys I saw on the dance floor.
But this chap was different, and I was impressed by the way he moved.
Jimmy O’Shaughnessy and I danced to mo-town classics until it was 11pm and time for me to catch the last bus home.
