I was brought up in Lincoln of Irish parents. Wonderful people who came over to England not knowing each other but met up in Lincoln. My father used to play the fiddle in the dance bands. One night he spotted my mother on the dance floor... and the rest is history. He also played the Mandolin and I learned the violin. I was very poor.

My story is that near where we lived in Lincoln there was a gravel pit filled with water. It was a mile long and half a mile wide and very very deep. Now my father was a good swimmer and the test his 4 daughters had to pass was to swim the mile.

It was very cold.

We all learned at school how to swim, but the pit was the challenge.

No one would do it.

However at the age of 11 and I accepted the challenge. I was the second born and a twin.

My father swam old English backstroke and side stroke. I swam breast stroke.

I do not know whether they use those terms now?

Needless to say on a cold autumn day I entered the water in my black regulation swimsuit and swam the mile.

The first of the daughters to do it.

It was the only thing for which I was praised.

I am a very good swimmer.

That day I grew.