….but he didn’t have a shop or a studio. I doubt he even owned a camera. Whenever I called to take his daughter out, his firm handshake and vague aura of menace suggested a somewhat shadier occupation. They were a lovely family and I seemed to be the only one who had any suspicions about what he did for a living. These were heightened when I went into a soul music shop in Shepherds Bush to buy this 12″ single and he was behind the counter. “Just looking after the place for a pal of mine”, he explained in a tone that invited no further questions. I imagine this “pal” had failed to pay his dues and was now propping up the Westway. When I saw his daughter years later, she told me her mum and dad had retired. “Yes”, she said with an innocent smile, “to the Costa Del Sol”.
She said her dad was “a photographer”…

- It was a quot...14th May 2016
- To Finch's in...12th May 2016
- The greatest ...11th May 2016
- Farewell to U...10th May 2016
- Happy Birthda...8th May 2016
- Why no jazz f...6th May 2016
- Oh God. I sh...5th May 2016
- Leicester Cit...3rd May 2016
- A death you m...2nd May 2016
- To the paint ...27th Apr 2016
- The Bard.25th Apr 2016
- The London Ma...24th Apr 2016
- The Man who o...23rd Apr 2016
- The Queen at ...21st Apr 2016
- RIP Victoria ...20th Apr 2016 prev next