In 2004 my mum was gravely ill and I spent as much time in Dorset as I could. My daughter, who was only 12, often came with me and as we headed south she always took charge of the music. Neither of us had an iPod back then and in an attempt to cheer me up in troubled times she played DJ. With a stack of CD cases on her lap, she’d constantly switch from one to another, playing a track off a Joan Armatrading CD, then one from a Rolling Stones album, all the way to the Purbeck hills.

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