About twenty years ago, my bike was stolen because I had locked it, with a U-lock, to a street sign I didn’t realise was broken. It was a man’s mountain bike, a bog-standard white one I’d bought for £50 out of the local paper. I’d put...
My dare devil brother was 10 years old, I was 11. He urged me to get on the back of his bike so that he could ferry me down Bradford Road and swore that I would be OK because he was so good at cycling now. Foolishly, I believed him and got on the back and held on to...
I was travelling in the car listening to Karen Brady on Desert Island Discs talking about being a clever business woman and I thought… could I make a commercial business work ? I run a very successful charity – could I turn that skill to profit… I...
As a teenager I was impressed by the size and shape of beautiful black ‘Grocers’ Bikes’. Not the bikes used by postmen with their minimal bag-carrying superstructure, nor ‘Butchers’ Bikes’ with equal sized wheels and substantial but...
Picture in half-light, a child is pushed through the narrow opening of a tiny ground-floor toilet window – he unbolts the back door for the burglar, his father, who then sidles through the house looking for cash and saleable goods. The pair gained notoriety on South...
