By Hannah Booth
Cheryl Winterson on being captured by the Magnum photographer near her home in south Wales
I lived on this street from the age of two. Opposite, out of shot, is the Ebbw Vale steelworks, where my father worked after he left the coalmine. I remember the red dust from the chimneys; it would leave specks on the washing. Our mothers kept a constant eye out to see which way the wind was blowing.
The building at the end of the terrace, with the Wall’s ice-cream sign, was the corner shop; I lived next door at number two, with my parents and brother. There were no cars in the street, so we used to play here until it got dark: hide and seek, hopscotch, ball games, kick the can. I knew all the children in the area. My school was just up the hill and I used to go home for lunch. It was a happy and comfortable childhood.