Lisa Lalor, 55, from Cheshire
Finishing up my shift, I dashed back to my room.
Touching up my makeup, I checked myself in the mirror.
It was the summer of 1985, and I was a waitress at Butlin’s.
At 18 years old, I wanted something fun.
Growing up in a village, I’d switched rural life for the thrill of a holiday resort.
Having completed my first week on the job, I was spending my Friday night celebrating in the Busby’s Nightclub on the resort.
Dancing and drinking with the girls, we were having such a good night, when suddenly, a stranger caught my eye.
With blond hair, he was wearing a light blue shirt with a grey waistcoat on top.
And then, as I admired him from afar, suddenly I caught him glancing back at me.
Only, every time our eyes locked, he swiftly looked away.
It was clear he wasn’t going to make the
