A secret Life.

I have a confession to make.

I am a Kate Bush Fan.

There. I've said it. Exposed myself. You can leave now if you want. The door's over there, the one with the Kate Bush poster on it. Yes, I know she's dressed as a lion and it is a bit kinky, but just see yourself out.

It is a social embarrassment, having people suddenly pointing at you saying "look, a Kate Bush Fan" and whirling both their arms around their heads screeching "It's Me Cathy" (the poor deluded people don't realise that it is only one arm for Wuthering Heights, both arms is Wow.) Way back at the end of the 70s and early 80s I sneakily liked to watch this strange woman in leotards doing cartwheels, roller skating and patting her backside, all done to rather catchy pop. However being a young lad at school I had to hide this strange quirk of mine, instead discussing the relative merits of the current in favour rock band (Rainbow! Motörhead! Asia! yikes!).

At university I discovered the delights of prog-rock and soon Kate was forgotten. After all when you have songs of 10 minutes and longer, lyrics about lawnmowers, aqualungs and amoebas, sung by blokes standing on one leg or dressed as a flower, who needs pop. Pop was to be avoided at all costs. Nasty little tunes with boring beats. Yuk.

However in 1987 I was suddenly reminded of her existence. Pangs of nostalgia and the horrible thought that I couldn't remember what Wuthering Heights actually sounded like forced me to venture into the local record shop. I walked in and right in front of me was a stand covered in Kate. Kate in the sale. A sign! Her lips seemed to be saying "you know you want me - buy me, buy me now!” I was weak, I couldn't resist.

Trouble is, I now had to buy Kate, this meant interaction with a sales bloke behind the counter. People might see me buying this! And I thought buying my first condoms was bad. I walked past the stand, grabbing a Kate cassette, hoping no one would notice. Then straight to the Brian Eno section to buy something that hopefully would save me some embarrassment. I waited until there was no queue and went to the counter. Just then half the customers in the shop decided that it was about time they too should go to the counter. People behind me! What if they saw what I was buying? I pushed the two cassettes across the counter with the Eno on top of the Kate. The assistant tapped in the price for the Eno and then held the Kate cassette high above his head and shouted to some other bloke at the back of the store, "HOW MUCH IS THE KATE BUSH".

A shocked silence descended.

Well it seemed that way. I had a feeling that everyone had turned in horror and was staring at me. I thought I should turn and say it wasn't for me, it was for a friend. But that would mean I had a friend who liked Kate Bush, and that would be just as bad. This assistant was rubbing my face in it. Why wave the offending article so everyone could see it, why bellow so loudly so that not only the entire shop, but people outside would know what I was buying? They would all be lingering outside the store, waiting to see what sort of person would venture in public to buy Kate Bush albums.

After an eternity that lasted a good second, the price was yelled back, money was exchanged and I got my rather red face out of there and started to hoof it home. After 5 minutes I realised that the plastic bag was mainly transparent and Kate's face was in full view. Argh! Quick wrap it up, walk faster, get home.

Back in my bed-sit with a really good mug of tea to calm myself down, I slipped the cassette into my tape deck, and with a last check to make sure everyone else was out of the house, I pressed play. . . .

A few minutes later I was blubbing. Feelings that had lay dormant for years had been stirred. She was back. It was good. Kate was to be my new musical love.

Soon I found I wasn't alone. There were others like me. I started meeting other fans, usually in secret locations like Top Withins on Haworth Moor where only sheep and deluded hikers go. A chance to be a Kate Fan and talk to like minded people about Her, without people rounding us up and chasing us out of town. I started wearing Kate Bush T-shirts in public, no doubt shocking a few people, but soon found that most people don't really care.

It's been 20 years now. Kate fans seem to be generally accepted these days. After all we may be a bit shy about admitting our love for the red-lipped warbling banshee, but underneath we are normal people, almost. Just don't say things like "It's been a long time since her last album hasn't it" or "Do you always wear leg warmers in Summer?" or "Tori Amos is great!" and Kate Fans usually remain calm.

So go on, say "Wow" a few times. You may get to like it.