I liked the way both the child and the dog looked at me from their open front doors, both curious but accepting, standing on their doorsteps as equals, quietly confident in their right to be there.
The image felt a bit sad to me. We lived on Bilton Grange a relatively new housing estate; it was all fresh air, green verges, trees and parks. A place of bright hope after the Second World War.
These streets seemed a shabby place to live in comparison. But they held communities who looked out for each other.
When they knocked Hessle Road about and moved the families that had lived there for generations to the big estates like Bransholme it wasn’t a success.
They ended up pulling newly built houses down because people didn’t want to live in a neighbourhood without neighbours.