Chapter 4

When I got up on Monday morning, all the commotion about restoring a car brought back memories of my time in prison. Standing by the window looking outside, I could see the countryside as far as the eye could see, something I couldn’t do when I was inside. In prison it was wall to wall concrete, my cell had a small window which was barred. To look outside you had to put a chair to stand on to be able to see anything.

Prison life for me wasn’t too bad. It was a learning curve in my life. Don’t get me wrong it wasn’t a holiday camp. Who wants to be locked up in a cell all night, and during the day to monitored on everything you did. Most of the inmates were ok; they just wanted to do their time and get out. You also had the once that wanted to control the prison. Most of the inmates had to pay these groups or gangs. They called it protection money. I was lucky no one ever asked me for protection money. I believe this is due to my cell mate Barry.

Barry was inside for life. He wasn’t going to see the prison walls from the outside in this lifetime. Rumours have it he’s killed some men, some Underworld related figures from the 80’s. He was in his late 50’s, a big man, not overweight but fit, would get up every morning to exercise, I guess that is where I picked up the habit. In here he was respected by not only the inmates but also the officers including the warden.

When I first met Barry, he didn’t introduce himself to me. He said a handful of words which I will always cherish. “You do your time and get out of here lad. You have a lifetime ahead of you.”

I started working in the prison workshop where Barry was in charge. I believe he pulled a few strings, for me to be there. Like I said earlier, a lot of rumours about Barry when he was on the outside. For me, Barry was my learning curve in life. He taught me to respect everyone in life. Right or wrong each person does something for a reason. Doing my time, I was out of line on many occasions. He was always there to guide me down the right road.

The knowledge I have about motor vehicles today is from Barry. In the workshop we had Maggie, that is what we called her. It was a Rover P 3500S, the car the police used in the late 70’s early 80’s in the UK. It was a two-tone armour plated vehicle with a V8 engine. In her era as Prime Minister, Margaret Thatcher spent a lot of her time in the back seat of one of these Rovers.

Together we stripped Maggie to the chassis. Explaining to me how every part of the car worked. Taking things apart then putting them back together. He would then make me take the whole engine apart, for weeks I would struggle to put it back together. When I got frustrated and gave up, he would say. “Do you have something better to do, maybe a prior engagement with some hot blondie?” The mechanical part was easy, we then started on the car body. I thought he had superhero vision. He would see ripples on the car panels that looked perfect at first for me. On closer inspection, I started seeing them as well. I learnt to bolt body panels back on the chassis like they had never been removed. For weeks I would rub down a bonnet and respray it. Rub it down again then respray it again. I would do this until I had the perfect finish. Then I would spend a whole day until it was perfectly aligned when I bolted back to the car.

The day I was going to be released I said to Barry. “I will never forget you. I came to prison a teenager, and I am leaving a man. You have been a father figure to me.” Embracing him, not letting him go.

When I released him from the bear hug, I gave him. Wiping his eyes, with the back of his hand he said. “What are you doing? Are you trying to destroy my reputation? Get out of here and forget about me, just remember what I taught you.” Giving me a light punch on the shoulder before I left. Walking down the corridor, he shouted. “Enjoy life to the full son!”

Every month I send him a pack of two-hundred Dunhill International cigarettes with a note attached to the package. “Send my regards to my girlfriend, Maggie.”

Returning to present day I jumped into the shower. After having breakfast, I went online to see what parts I could find for the MG. I found most of the parts on Ebay, avoiding any pattern parts, preferring to buy second-hand parts which were in good condition or new parts. I wanted to use the funds I had to prepare the car to be roadworthy, whatever money was left over I could use on the bodywork.

By midday, I was downstairs helping Patsy set up the buffet for lunch. At 2 pm my four favourite customers strolled in, sitting at their favourite table I went over to take their orders. Mr Tate today seemed very talkative, at some stage Bob said to him. “My god man let someone else speak.”

They stayed for a couple of hours playing bridge, Bob winning again like always. As they were leaving, I called Mr Tate over to have a quick word with him. “Mr Tate I have ordered some part’s which are arriving in a couple of days. I gave your forwarding address if that’s ok?”

“Yes, that will be ok.” He replied.

“Also I wanted to ask you, will it be ok to come in the morning to do some work on the car, until midday when I start here?”

Putting his hand on my shoulder, he said. “Son I was going to ask you the same thing if you wanted to come during the week, but I didn’t want to pressure you with too much work.”

Next day I was around Mr Tate’s house, knocking on the door at 9 am. Started work on the car straight away, dismantling the parts I was going to refurbish. Good thing I brought some WD40 with me as I had a little difficulty unscrewing some of the bolts.

With a cup of coffee in his hand, Mr Tate approached me. “Everything ok Steve? You seem to be struggling a bit there?”

“It’s ok these screws just need a bit of elbow grease.”

When I finished what I was doing, he handed me the coffee. We talked a while about me and how I ended up in Lemsford. I was thinking; he’ll find out sooner or later, I might as well tell him about myself. He listened to me nodding his head up and down every so often. Once I got everything off my chest, I just sat there looking at him, waiting for his reaction.

“Thank you, Steve for been honest with me. Not a lot of people would mention about doing time, especially to someone they hardly know.” He started to rub his chin, then put his hand in his pocket. Revealing a mini remote control, he pressed it in the middle. The garage door started to open. “At last the doors been fixed.” He said.

With the carburettor in my hand, I started walking to the entrance, inspect the part closer to the light. Wondering at the same time if Mr Tate wants me to leave. If that is the reason, he opened the garage door. Feeling his presence behind me, I turned to face him.

“Steve this remote is for you.” Showing me how it worked. “Finish off what you are doing, I’ll make a quick omelette for us.”