One of the places I had been to in Newcastle was a bookshop. I had bought a couple of novels, a notepad, and a copy of the Concise Oxford Dictionary. I pulled the notepad and a pen out of my bag and laid them on the table. I felt like I needed to make a plan. I had committed myself to running when I walked away from my father’s business, but I didn’t seem to know how I was going to fulfil whatever potential I had. All I had done was burn my bridges, and I felt unsure about how to make progress. I needed to do something different, but I didn’t know what.
