From Newport to Bromley – 1967

The year was 1967, and I was just a lad when we left our home in Newport, South Wales, and set off for a new life in Bromley, Kent. My father had been offered a position with a car sales company called Burton and Deakin, who ran two bustling sales sites in Orpington and another in Hayes. It was a big move—for all of us—but it turned out to be one of the happiest times of my life.

We settled into our new surroundings quickly. Bromley had a different rhythm to it, a mix of suburban calm and city opportunity. My father threw himself into his new role with a quiet pride, and every time I passed one of the Burton and Deakin sites, I felt a strange sense of excitement. The rows of shiny cars, the scent of new upholstery and petrol, the clink of tea mugs in the sales office—it was a world I wanted to be part of.

And then I got my chance.

At the Hayes branch, they offered me a part-time job as a petrol attendant. It was my first proper job, and I took it seriously. Pumping petrol, wiping windscreens, chatting to customers—it may have seemed small, but to me, it was everything. I’d stand there in my overalls, proud as anything, watching the comings and goings of a business that felt like a second home.

Those were golden days. The world was opening up around me, and I was learning the value of work, responsibility, and people. My parents were happy, my father was thriving, and I had found my first real sense of purpose among petrol pumps and parked cars.

Looking back, that move in 1967 was more than just a change of address. It was the start of a journey.