A free man, is how I often describe myself these days, after the ordeal of the past thirteen years. An ordeal it certainly was, though that is not what this page is all about. I will be telling ALL about the trials, the lead-up and the background to one of Britain’s dirtiest and most manipulated legal cases for generations. Somewhere else and some time in the future.
I grew up in South Wales, in Cardiff during a time of immense political struggle and unrest; a child of the 70s, I am. Pints of beer for 10p, Cardiff Rugby Club and prior to that, Cardiff City with regular trips to the hallowed ground of Old Trafford thrown in whenever we could go and stay with my Uncle and Aunt in Sale. There were girls, goals, fags and some terrible guitar playing, but they were great days. Summer of ’76, driving around in the little blue Mini and failing almost completely to get to second base…
I have had and continue to have, a great life, enjoying the love of friends and the warmth of family. A lot of people say they are surprised at my lack of bitterness and bile. To them, I say this, “Instead of thinking what might have been, I take delight in what there is, what I have and what I value. You cannot put a price on that. The rest of it is just stuff.” To all the people out there with whom I have lost touch, I wish you well. Yes, even you.
Now I have the pen, or indeed the laptop. During my years enjoying the Queen’s hospitality, I had the good fortune to be able to write, to play the guitar and to pen a few songs, though I am not going to subject anyone to those just yet. (Watch out, Hugh Laurie – when these books do well, I am going to be right on your tail with my “Old Farts Blues Ensemble”.) Who knows? Some of this stuff may even be a commercial success.