Well, my village and the village next door at least.

I live in a small rural village, population about 1,000. There is one pub and a small village shop. Buses run once an hour and finish around 8.30pm. The nearest “city” is roughly 7 miles away – too far to walk for a good time. It has one club. As you might deduce, nightlife is sparse and if you didn’t have a car, you’re pretty much stuck where you live.

My village is an idyllic little place, cows and sheep meander in the fields and everyone knows everyone else. Perfect for grown-ups to come home to. Not so much if you’re about 17 and restless.

There is a group of young people who stand around under the streetlamp at the end of my High Street; usually on a Friday or Saturday night. Not always the same group, but always young and dissolute. You know them by the trail of trash strewn down the street; broken on the tarmac, abandoned in the weeds.

As this hotspot happens to be my featureless garden wall, I was mystified by its popularity. Why on earth anyone would spend hours hanging around on a cold, windy corner? There is no where to sit and no shelter. Have I mentioned cold and windy?

Generally, when I approach, the group scatters, melting into the surroundings like wild things in the woods (Sssh! They’re more afraid of you, than you are of them!)

I did get my chance to ask. It was after a particularly, ahem, merry gathering the night before.

I was gauntleted and ready to do post-party disposal, when lo and behold, five of the wild things appeared on the corner. I had surprised them as much as they had me. Like deer in headlights, they froze. My mouth was running before I had even got to the wall.

I asked why they hung out here. They were generally polite but not very articulate. Also, very shy and sheepish at the mess they had left. A couple of them even helped to pick up.

This corner was the only place that was lit at night.

And that was pretty much it.

I asked a few more casual questions and tried not to appear judgmental. I guess it was the only place they felt free from disapproving eyes.

One of them was still in school, but the others had left at 16 to work. Why not go to college, I had asked. Studying did not agree with them.