Once, when I was young, probably about ten, I met an elderly man courtesy of my father and grandfather.  He lived a couple of streets away from my granddad in Portsmouth and we had walked round to see him in the summer sunshine. The three of them spoke in hushed tones punctuated with nods toward a model ship in a glass cabinet. I remember the cabinet being dusty - the house too, dusty, decorated in the style prevalent of the 1950’s, which in the early 1970’s seemed to my eye ver...


Continue reading ...