ACW at Keeton’s Hall in Bermondsey, south-east London, was the first small show I’d been to, the first village hall show, where the ring skirts don’t meet the floor, and the air conditioning is some fans that appear to be haphazardly stuck to the walls. It was also the first family-friendly show I’d been to, and Emmy and I spent much of the journey trying to think of ways to edit the chants we’d used the weekend before at Progress so we weren’t swearing our heads off every five seconds.