Simon & Peter

South Wonston, Hampshire


Can you tell me about that photograph and why you selected it?

"That photograph is of me and dad, standing on the patio outside the garage door near the back door of the house that I grew up in, in a village called South Wonston near Winchester. It was taken by my Nan. I actually found it in a box of old film prints, we cleared out my nan and grandad's house and I was looking through lots of the old photographs that my nan took, and lots of them are really well organised, there's an album from the first few days of my life and the first few days of my sisters life, trips they went on to Switzerland and Canada, but there were also just boxes and boxes of 6x4 35mm prints that I'd never seen. So about 6 months ago, I was looking through them and found this one of me and dad, just standing there in the garden, and as you can see, it looks like we're doing some serious sweeping up, we've got some jobs to do and we're getting on with it! It just felt like a really right image to use."

"If Dad was at home and the sun was up, he was in the garden working and he worked amazingly hard on that garden, it was a real passion for him. He'd grown up on a farm in Cornwall and I think at some point he'd considered going back to farming, there was almost an option that after he got married to my mum, and before me and my sister were around, that they were going to go back and buy another farm, and work with his brother, my uncle, to build the family business, but for various reasons, he decided against it. There's actually a sheet where he's written all the pros and cons down, ‘Why should we move to Cornwall’, ‘Why shouldn't we…”, and he’s thinking about what oppourtunities the kids he hasn't yet had will have if they're in Cornwall compared to Winchester and thinking about my mum and the work she's doing as a music teacher. Maybe I'm putting words into his mouth, but he didn't get that opportunity to work on a farm, so he has the garden and he'd landscaped it so there was grass, a loop of paving for us to ride our bikes around, flower beds down each side."

"The bottom half was all set out for fruit and veg and he would grown and cultivate fruit and veg throughout the year and we would eat whatever we needed together on the kitchen table and the rest would get put in the freezer and eaten through the year, or he'd take it to church and there was a lady who made jam, so he'd bring her rhubarb each week, so the garden was a real passion. As a kid, I would go and help, well, I say help, I probably got in the way more than helping him out, but I'd do sweeping or dig for worms. I remember especially I would always try and dig for treasure in the garden, just as a kid with an imagination, and I would always find treasure regardless of where I was digging and only in recent years did I find out that that was because he would get his big shovel and dig a hole, put an old coin or old piece of pottery or something in the hole, cover it over and then he'd tell me where to dig and I'd be there with my little shovel or my little trowel and I'd always find treasure and be super excited about it! So I've got very fond memories of being in the garden and spending time there with my sister and my mum, chasing the chickens around and it feeling like a really secure place where we had fresh air and amazing views over the countryside out the back, just really happy memories."


"I would always try and dig for treasure in the garden, just as a kid with an imagination, and I would always find treasure regardless of where I was digging and only in recent years did I find out that that was because he would get his big shovel and dig a hole, put an old coin or old piece of pottery, cover it over and then he'd tell me where to dig."


So, the man that hides treasure so that you can find it, how does that remind you about who your dad was to you?

"He was a great provider. Through the garden he would provide food and he worked really hard to provide financially for the family and look after us in that way, which gave my mum the freedom to work part time as a music teacher and train to be a minister, which was because he worked hard full time. He always provided for me and my sister, we were both able to go to university, have a great education. He also supported us through our music, we both played in orchestras, so he'd drive us around to concerts everywhere. I had percussion lessons down in Bournemouth, which was an hour away, so on a Tuesday night, we’d drive 1 hour there, I'd have my lesson for an hour and then we'd drive home and that was his Tuesday night, so in that sense, he was giving me oppourtunities, supporting me and helping me through whatever I wanted to do, there was always an opportunity there." 

"I think there are other sides of him, we'd always have fun at home, we'd go out together and have fun, and I went to work with him in the office a few times and I saw a different side to him there. He was very much the fun guy in the office, a real joker and he was the manager, and I don't know whether it was a case of keeping morale high, but I think he was just genuinely enjoying having time with some close friends and they'd have their little in-jokes and I'd be sat there sorting out paperwork and they'd be having a laugh together and then he'd go back and steer the ship and keep the work going. There were people at work, I remember one chap especially who worked out in the yard who said, 'Your dad's a good chap, he gave me a second chance', and I think this guy had come into this job and things hadn't gone right for him for whatever reason up until that point and my dad had seen that he was an honest chap and given him a job. He also did things like, all the drivers at the company, when he got there, they didn't have uniforms, so dad made sure they all had uniforms, they felt smart, part of the company and representing the company and he mobilised people in that way, so hopefully in that sense he was a good leader. So there are lot's of different facets to who he was and what he did in different contexts." 


What was your relationship like with your dad, how was it characterised, what did it look like?

"I've talked about him providing, but for me, he was always there, if there was anything I needed, if I wasn't sure about something or I needed to resolve a situation of needed advice, I could either talk to him there, or once I was at university, I would just pick up the phone. It was necessarily that he always had the answer, but there was always a solution or some sort of resolution, he would just put my mind at ease. That was always so reassuring, to just know that he was there. He wasn't a particularly affectionate sort of guy, although I remember in particular the first time mum and dad dropped me off at university in Manchester, I'd been a bit anxious about coming, moving away from home for the first time. They dropped me off in my halls, which was this room with whitewashed breezeblocks, a single bed, a wooden bench for a desk and a window that wouldn't open all the way so it felt a bit like a prison. I could seem them thinking to themselves, are we about to leave our son here, and I think that was probably gave my dad a hug man to man, and it was a bit nervous and apprehensive because no-one quite knew what to do in that situation, but from that point on, there was always a hug, if I'd come back home or had to head off again." 

"The relationship definitely developed over time, as it would, we would go and see Saints matches together, which is something we could really bond over. I think that reassurance was the main thing, he was a fairly quiet sort of guy, but was always there when you needed him and he'd always have the right answer whenever you wanted it."


What in you, reminds you of your dad?

"There are a lot of things, I think, but it's hard to bring them to mind. I think when I was growing up I felt I was a bit more like my mum, in terms of the way in which we process things and the way we approach things and organised ourselves, and maybe that's more to do with the fact that I didn't see dad at work, I would see him at home when he was switched off and relaxing." 

"I think particularly in the way that I lead, if I'm at work or as part of a group, I'll almost expect people to follow my lead, or see the example that I set and then follow accordingly. I don't think dad would ever tell us what to do, he would give us options and help us make our own decisions and would almost expect that we'd automatically know the right thing to do because of the way that we'd be brought up, and that always seemed to work itself out. So I think that fact that now if I'm having a conversation with someone else and maybe problem solving a certain issue, I'll do exactly what my dad used to do, which was say, ok, what are the pros, what are the cons, how do you feel about these things." 

"I used to call him up for anything, any time of day, anything I wasn't sure about, practical or emotionally or I'd need something sorting out, I'd call him up and he'd always answer and if he couldn't answer, he'd call back pretty quick and he'd always have the answer. He always had the solution to what I needed. He didn't need to resolve the issue, but he'd just put my mind at rest. So I think I try and do that. Maybe I do that with my wife Sarah, I've learnt not to problem solve everything, I think that's just something you learn once you're married, but actually in terms of trying to ease a situation or help someone understand where they're coming from, I think I probably get that from Dad."


"Lying there in hospital, the last half an hour of his life, he was saying, 'This is the one thing you need to do, put your faith into action', and that's something that will stick with me forever."


Did it make it harder? Did it exacerbate the problem that your dad couldn't fix being ill? Did it make it harder to see him unable to fix a problem with his own health?

"It was very tricky actually to see him unable to help himself, but he was very strong throughout the whole thing, almost to the extent that he didn't let it affect anyone else to a great extent, except really my mum, because she was looking after him. For the first couple of years, maybe even 3 years of his illness, he was having treatment, but he barely told anybody. He told a few friends, close family and definitely his boss at work, but probably not even the people he worked alongside, just because he didn't want it to affect how he operated and how people related to him." 

"For whatever miracle reason, he went through all this treatment and he didn't loose any hair, in fact, his hair grew even more! It was a bit crazy, it went under the radar for so long, and maybe it's just that he didn't want us to talk about it, he didn't want it to affect things, and so for quite a while, I knew that Dad had cancer, but it didn't seem to make any difference. Gradually, we always knew it wasn't going to end well, and then in the last few months was anyone aware that it was really serious. He died just after Christmas, 30th December 2009, and he stayed at home throughout Christmas, Dad had said he couldn't really face eating any Christmas lunch, which was fair enough, and it got to the moment where everyone else was in the kitchen sitting eating their Christmas lunch and he couldn't really get out of the chair. Then he just said, 'Right, let's do it', and so me and Rob, my brother in law, literally seat lifted him, carried him into the kitchen, put him on a chair and we had Christmas lunch together, and I think it was about two days after that, a doctor came over and said to him, I think you might need to go to the hospital, because he was in a lot of pain, and he just said, 'Yeah ok'. And that confused me, because, well, I've got pictures of that Christmas, and he just looks so ill, very frail, thin and pale, but at the time I just didn't see it, he was just my Dad, it wasn't like, here's this really ill man, he was still there and he'd kept on going so well, but then I think I knew, well maybe I questioned it in my head, he almost had just said, 'yeah, I'll go to the hospital', but I was thinking, he doesn't need to do that! If you look at the pictures though, he obviously did." 

"Even the night before, I remember being at the hospital and mum saying she was going to stay, but to take everyone else home. Even then I hadn't even quite clocked that it was close and I remember sitting down with my sister, her husband Rob and Sarah and chatting and praying together, and that felt really special, very peaceful." 

"Mum called at about 6 the next morning, and we went in and we were all there, and he passed away really peacefully. Even then he kept on going, and saying, 'Right, you've got to look after the garden, and got to look after mum', and things like, 'this is the guy that needs to play the organ at the funeral', he'd thought it through! And he said something to us all then, about faith, which we'd never really heard him talk about. We used to come away from church on a Sunday and talk about things, but he told us to make sure we all put out faith in to action, and it was a phrase which no-one had ever heard him say before, but literally lying there in hospital, last half an hour of his life, he was saying, this is the one thing you need to do, put your faith into action, and that's something that will stick with me forever. Those few words are exactly what he did for his whole life, right up until the end, and he didn't stop believing that he could still just be a great dad and a great husband and a great boss at work. Even up until months or maybe even weeks before he was still sending emails and making sure everyone was in the right place and people come in to sit with him when he was ill at home and have a bit of a meeting. I remember a guy coming up, and I'd never met him before, but he was going to take on dad's role to make sure stuff kept going, so he was filling in this guy on everything he needed to know to make sure everything kept on going. So he didn't ever really let go." 


What did you do for the rest of the day after your Dad passed away?

"I remember leaving the hospital, and I remember mum had stayed, and so we all got in the same car. So it was me and mum, Jess and Rob. The minister from the church had turned up to visit in the hospital, I don't know whether it was good timing or bad timing for him, but it was minutes after Dad had passed away, and we were all just sat there, and he walked in, and I made eye contact with him and he must have known straight away, but he looked flabbergasted. So we were there, mum asked him, Howard to say a prayer, so he did, I've no idea what he said, but I'm sure it was lovely. We stayed there until we felt it was right to leave and I remember I had to text Sarah, to tell her what had happened, which I can't believe I would have done, but I don't think I felt like calling her up on the phone."

"We went home, and I don't think mum had slept, she'd be sat with him all night, so she went straight to bed, and I wasn't expecting her to do anything. I think we, me and Jess and Rob just sat, I don't know what we did, I think it all just felt like a bit of a daze, there's nothing we could do, you're just there and it's happening. The one thing that did happen was the family doctor, who'd been looking after Dad for years, on this winter's night, he popped round, knocked on the door and said, 'Can I come in', so I said yeah of course, and he said, 'How are things?' and I said something like, 'as expected' and he looked a bit confused and said, 'Where's your dad?' and I said, 'He passed away this morning' and he didn't know, no-one had given him the message and he was so apologetic. That was the first time I'd had to tell anyone. I mean, he was half way down the hall way to get to the bedroom to go and see Dad, where he would have been, and so I had to explain and he just couldn't believe that no-one had told him yet." 

"That was the first time telling anyone face-to-face and I just had to come out with it, you can't say, well, there's now nice way to say it. That must have been the 30th, but on the 31st I remember watching New Years Eve TV with Mum and Sarah must have come round, and for whatever reason, I think I must have just been trying to amuse myself, I made a little green and yellow pompom out of wool, using two bits of card, which I think was a thing that my grandma had shown me, I was making a bobble for a hat that I had, which unfortunately I've now lost, but I vividly remember watching Jools Holland hootenanny, just making this thing and being really pleased that I'd made it and I was obviously just trying to engage myself in a totally different way." 

"Then you have to go through things like, calling university and saying I'm not going to be back for the next two weeks. I also had to call Dad's office and tell them, and these are people he's worked with for years and years and that have been so close. I knew them as well because I'd worked in the office a bit, I spoke to a chap called Ady on the phone, who was a lovely guy, and I could just hear him crumpling on the other end of the phone and not really knowing what to do. Also having to tell the guys that we went to the Saints games with and tell them there's a memorial service in two weeks. I think my mum went into practical mode and organised the ceremony and all those bits she needed to do. You kind of just drift along and there are things you have to do and just carry on with life, but then you go through all those stages of trying to process it in whatever way you think you can process it and not really understanding." 


So you have the funeral and everyone is around you and then all of a sudden, everyone goes away and it all gets quiet. Do you remember the first time that you really missed him? 

"Not vividly. I remember the memorial service was a really good thing to go through, because it felt like a celebration. This church that we'd been to our whole lives was full, there were people standing at the back. I was sat at the front just thinking, I don't usually sit at the front, I usually sit over there, why am I sat at the front? Then all these people that I knew, coming up and saying nice things. Ady had put together a book of letters from company clients, people had sent stuff, people from Sainsbury's, saying, 'Peter was amazing to work with and helped me in this situation' and reading these things that otherwise I would never have known about. Then the choir that Dad had sung in were on the opposite side of the room singing their hearts out. So all of that, felt like a really good thing to do and celebrate."

"After that, I suppose it was a case of, if there was a was something I need to sort out, I think, right, who do I call? I wasn't going to call mum, because mum doesn't need me to burden her with something might be a bit trivial, so I just thought, well I've got to do it myself, I've got to tell myself I've got to do this. I had to come back up to Manchester to finish my degree, that was the last 3 or 4 months of my degree, so I just had to get my head down and smash it out, get it done. I didn't have time to think about what I wanted to do after my degree, I just had to get on with it. So I don't know if there was a particular moment. Even when Saints won a game, who do I text and say, wasn't that a great game, or did you see the game? I suppose you just learn to cope really."


"It was one of the first things I thought when I got engaged, I thought one day I'll have kids, and my dad would have made an amazing grandad and he won't be there."


How has his absence affected you? How do you think might be different had he still be around? Do you ever think about who are now as a result of the experience of loosing your dad at that age?

"The guidance thing, especially at this stage of life, having finished my degree. I'd been playing in a band, which was really fun, and I'd taken time out of uni to do it, but he was always making sure, saying, where is this going and where will it end up? I think I'd said to him a few weeks before Christmas, 'I'm going to go back and finish my degree, I don't think I'm going to carry on with the band', and he'd said, 'Yeah, ok'. It wasn't like he was telling me to do it, but that was one of the first things that I did, I just sent an email saying, that has happened and I don't think I can carry on with this and I need to finish my degree. I don't think I've made poor choices, but I always had him there to just give me a nudge and say, how are you best using your time and what's driving you? I've gone through all sorts of things, I've worked in music, as a photographer, manage a coffee house, and some of those things I'm still doing now, and I'm really enjoying myself." 

"I got married and bought my first house and a lot has happened in that time, a lot which I would have loved him to be there and have seen, but also, all those things he would have supported me through. So I think, well, I don't doubt in the slightest I would have made better decisions had he beed there to nudge me along the way, and that's not to say I've made bad decisions, because getting married and buying the house is great, I'm very happy in life, but I suppose the biggest thing for me is the fact that he's not there for my mum. That's not just me trying to say the right thing and be selfless, that's the thing that pains me the most, that I see my mum sometimes struggling or having to make decisions in her life that she should be making with my dad. She's about to become a grandma for the first time and my dad should be becoming a grandad for the first time, because my sister is having a baby, and that's incredible news and the whole family is delighted, but he should be there and he's not and that's never going to change."

"It was one of the first things I thought when I got engaged, I thought one day I'll have kids, and the kids will have Sarah's dad who will be an incredible grandad, but I had two grandads when I was growing up and it was great and my dad would have made an amazing grandad and he wont be there. Things like that, and I know thats thinking a bit into the future, but definitely for the fact that he's not there for mum is a big thing for me, and that's six years on, and it doesn't get any easier in that sense because there's still that big hole there."

"I think that's a really important part of why I'm investing time in doing this project, because I want to encourage people to talk about those things, share stories and talk about occasions that no-one else remembers, but for whatever reason, you remember it and your relationship to that person is unique."

"Well, especially when I'm finding photos like that, which I didn't know existed, that's just happiness. You just remember amazing family times, having such a happy and solid family unit and feeling amazingly fortunate that I've got that to remember and enjoy. I don't think I let that sort of sadness creep in as much anymore, and that makes it sound like I control it, but I think you can choose to let it affect you or not. One of the things that I thought would happen, because we all loose people in life, and I thought the next person that I lost would be a real blow, having lost Dad, which was a big impact, I thought whoever I lost next would really destroy me. I lost my grandad not that long ago and actually I felt like I coped pretty well with that and I'm not trying to equate the loss in terms of loosing one more than the other, but if I’m thinking about looking back at those old family photographs and who was there, and the people who were there when I was a kid aren't all there now, and so you spend more time thinking about things when everything was really strong as a family and could enjoy times together. I think that's a really important part of why I'm investing time in doing this project, because I want to encourage people to talk about those things, share stories and talk about occasions that no-one else remembers, but for whatever reason, you remember it and your relationship to that person is unique."

"There's a photograph of me and my dad sat in a tractor on the farm in Cornwall, which I could well have used for this project, but there aren't any tractors on the farm anymore. That's a really strong memory for me, riding in the tractor with dad, on the farm, that's great, I can't be sad about that, it was my life as a kid and I think it would be easy to look at old photos and feel really sad about it, but you have to feel fortunate that you had it in the first place and there's a lot of people who don't know their dads at all and miss out on a whole part of their lives without someone there to give them that nudge and guide them through and provide for them, which I was so fortunate to have and fortunate enough to have someone who provided everything I could have possibly needed. That's one of the main things really, I've never been without and I'm still not going without because my dad shrewdly invested money into things that no-one else really knew about so when he passed away all these little pots of money started popping up and all of a sudden my mum can look after me and my sister as well as she needs to and help us buy houses and things like that because my dad worked so hard and saved money well and was diligent. So even now, I'm still feeling looked after, which is quite a thing really."


Who bought your first camera?

"Good question! I think I must have borrowed mum and dad's camera, but certainly they would have bought me a 35mm point and shoot camera, which I didn't think much of at the time, because it was a case of wanting to take pictures on holiday. But certainly when I was getting more interested in photography and more excited about it, mum and dad bought me my first digital camera. I remember dad bought the right case and a big memory card to go with it and made sure I was all set up with it, and that was the camera I first started shooting proper things on, gigs and shows. Then as I was getting into that, he bought himself a camera on ebay, he loved ebay. He bought himself a greenhouse on ebay in parts and went to pick up in the car, all these sheets of glass and metal bits and he built it in the garden, like a big meccano set, he loved it. But yeah, he bought himself this camera on ebay, so when he was down in Cornwall he'd take pictures of all the fields, the farm, the dog and the cows. And that's something that I never got to explore really, because I think my passion for photography and love for it is something I could have shared with dad had he been given the opportunity to spend more time taking pictures, because he really enjoyed taking pictures. When he had a camera on holiday, he would take a lot of pictures and I'm not saying that because it instigated an interest in taking pictures for me, but I think that's a hobby that we both definitely could have shared if he was still around."


Is there anything that you wished you've said to your dad that you didn't?

"No, there isn't. I've got not regrets whatsoever, which I'm amazingly grateful for and I'm very aware, because there are people who get lost in an instant, and it's absolutely tragic, and I can't possibly imagine how much that would tear somebody apart. I had a conversation with a guy who's a bereavement councillor and he was talk about an image which people can use which is that death is like a glass vase being pushed off a table. For some people, it takes years, there's a gentle hand and you can see that the glass vase is going, it's going, it's going and then it's gone and it falls. It falls and breaks into a few pieces and it's broken, but you can kind of put it back together fairly easily, you can see all the parts, you think, yep, I can fit that back together and feel ok about that. For other people, it's just like a punch in the dark. Suddenly, in an instant, in a flash, that vase has gone, it's smashed and it's in a million pieces and there's literally no way that you could possibly repair that. For me, I just feel amazingly fortunate that I had that time, and I could see it coming. I know I've talked about that fact that even the day before I didn't feel like I knew it was coming, but I remember specifically when I was in Manchester, maybe it was a year or six months before, writing him a letter, which is not something I'd ever done before, I'd never written my dad a letter. I think it was just easier, because of the relationship we had, maybe it wasn't overly affectionate, we were two guys, but this way I could write everything I wanted to say. That he is an amazing dad, (this was all in present tense), that you're an amazing dad, I know you're ill and you're fighting it, but we'll fight it together and you've always provided everything I've needed and you've always supported me and helped me make good decisions. I don't know where that letter is now, but I remember him getting it and I remember him saying when he was lying in hospital, saying thank you to me for that letter and that it meant a lot to him. There are things that you say in that moment, when he's lying there and he's kind of semiconscious, and you don't know if he's hearing it, so I was really glad that for whatever reason, I'd decided to write that letter and put it into words. I think it would be really hard for me to go back and read that now, it's been 6 years and I've not gone back to find it and read it, but it'll be somewhere at my mum's house, but the fact that I said all those things and didn't have any regrets about saying thank you in a way, which is weird because you don't often say thank you to your parents, unless you're writing a fathers day card, which people do, and I did as well." 

"You asked me a question earlier about was there a point at which I knew I was missing him and I think there was a point at church on a Sunday morning and it was fathers day. It hadn't really registered, just because I didn't need to know about father day anymore, it was a thing that I didn't ever need to worry about it my life. We were singing this song and one of the lines was, 'God works all things together for my good', and I was singing it and thinking, I don't know if that's a thing that I really believe, and I was just pondering it and still singing it and standing on my own thinking about it, and then I remember this arm just appearing and going over my shoulder and it was Phil, the pastor of the church. He just gave me this massive hug and I can't remember if he said anything or not, but that meant an awful lot to me, because he'd spotted it and he knew and he was obviously thinking of me and I just burst into tears! I didn't really have any option, it just happened! That was a real, because I don't think I'd been particularly emotional in public, I had my moments at home on my own, but that was a point at which it was almost like a public acknowledgement, yeah, this really hurts, but, it's ok, because I can choose to believe that God is building everything together for my good. In some ways, loosing my dad, in a strange way, makes me believe that even more, because I feel like there are still good things coming out of the fact that he's not with us and that's a really strange thing to say, but even the fact that I feel able to do a project like this, the Loved&Lost Project, and already I can see that it's helping people think about things, have conversations, and there's no way I would be doing this unless I'd lost my dad. This isn't the only thing, but for me to say that there are people having conversations or feeling supported by the project as a result of what happened, is a positive thing for me. That may well be part of the process of me processing everything and making it feel like there has to be some good that comes out of this, because otherwise it's just a horrible thing and it's really painful and dreadful, and if that's the case, then that's it, fine."

"If I could live as simply as Dad did and relate to anyone and everyone as he did, then I'll be happy."


What would you like to take from his life as inspiration or foundation for how you would like to live the rest of your life?

"That's huge! I think the simplicity of how he lived his life. That's not to say he didn't have dreams and aspirations, but he provided so amazingly well for his family, loved his family so well. His passions were simple. He'd be out in the garden, and committing himself to whatever he'd put his time to, whether that was doing things at church, being the go-to guy for sorting things out, leading so well at work. If he'd been alive for a year or two more there was potential for him to be a director at the company, so he'd obviously his worked his way up there a bit and done a great job. He was a good leader in that sense, led the family very well, but without ever telling anyone what to do, he led by example and there wasn't any fussing or stressing, he seemed very assured." 

"There are certain things that I feel I've taken on from him, I try and lead by example, although I feel like sometimes I'm a bit loud and brasher and get a bit overexcited, and I think, maybe I should be a bit more considered in this moment. Just the fact that he seemingly enjoyed life without having fast cars and elaborate holidays. I remember he got the chance to choose a company car and him saying to me that he'd chosen a Honda estate, which was a very nice car, but that he could easily have gone for a BMW or Mercedes, something flash, but he just didn't want it. Why would you let your company spend an extra ten grand on a car that you don't need! If you're going to buy something, buy it once and buy it well, but don't buy that thing that you don't need that's going to make other people think super flash! I think he always wanted to try and relate to everybody, which is something I really want to do as well. I think because of his background, coming from a fairly humble Cornish upbringing, that just put him in such good stead for being relatable. He could relate to anybody really. You could easily look at someone who's doing fairly well for themselves and living in Winchester, which could get stereotyped very easily, but I don't think there's anyone he couldn't relate to, he could meet anyone at their level and I think that's an amazing quality to have, to not be prejudice or second guess anyone or try to put words into someone else's mouth and thats something I'm still learning. I'm still too self centred most of the time. If I could live as simply as Dad did and relate to anyone and everyone as he did, then I'll be happy."