I was young and worked in a garage. I was in the wrong job, aged 17. Why did I end up there? Was it fate punishing me for not joining the RAF? Other people thought I’d be good at fixing cars. I wasn’t; I was barely ok. Think of quiet me in a real man’s world. It was a daunting thought and there I was.

It was ok at first but soon went wrong. Trying to take a Volvo’s bumper o...

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