It was when I was about seven and I was brought up in Beeston, and I had three brothers – well, four brothers really. And we were told never to go to look at the steam trains on Crow Nest Lane, which was in Beeston - on pain of death, you must not go up there and stand on the bridge and watch the steam trains!

And I just loved the smell of them, I loved the sound when they came along the track, and my brothers used to hold me up - not over the bridge, but I could look then, and wait until the steam train came, and then all that lovely white smoke. But it wasn't, it was horrible and grey, and when we got home they all got a jolly good hiding because my face was black!