my/our/their family

Born 13th August, 1951

Unsurprisingly, my relationship with Nigel is my closest sibling relationship. He is closest to me in age, and he had more influence on the development of my personality than I think he realises…

Nigel is the only sibling of which I have ‘Orchard Way’ memories, because he is the only one I shared time with in our home. He was my big brother, and had the big bedroom, that I aspired to and later inherited.

My earliest memories are a family holiday in Clacton when I was about 5 or 6, and Nigel was old enough to go off by himself for the day, and ride the roller coaster on the pier. Another memory is my repeated, secret infiltration of that bedroom, spending hours gazing at the photo kept rolled up at the back of the shelf in his closet – not pornography, but a glossy, black and white depiction of the 1967 FA Cup winners – Greaves, Gilzean, Jennings, Knowles, goalscorers Jimmy Robertson and Frank Saul, and captain Dave Mackay.

When Nigel started going off to Tottenham with his mates, he (almost) always brought me a programme home, and I ended up with a huge collection of them from the late 70’s – till Dad sold them to a programme collector while I was away at University.

Nigel took me to my first game at White Hart Lane. Here in the USA, where sports fandom can be as religious as well, religion, I proudly tell my friends that I first saw Tottenham play over 50 years ago – 20th November 1971 – and I can remember so much about that day even now. Much of it is cliche – peering over the wall into the car park to watch the players arrive, the bright, brightest ever green of the grass on my first sight of it, the smell of that old wooden stand, the excitement of seeing my heroes in the flesh – but I also remember Nigel’s care of duty – particularly leaving a few minutes early to catch the bus back to Seven Sisters and protecting me from the masses pushing their way onto the bus.

We sometimes went to Tottenham with his friends – he had a great bunch of friends, and I was lucky to be able to join in occasionally. Because of Dad’s name, Nigel was nicknamed ‘Algy’ by his friends, so I obviously became ‘Little Algy’ when I was around. The gang were based around Meridian Youth Club, and I remember watching them play in football tournaments. Later I followed that same path, and played for the Youth Club for a couple of years.

I also followed in Nigel’s footsteps to Hitchin Boys Grammar School. When he left school at 16, he began training to be a chartered accountant, which involved articling with Watts Knowles, a local accounting firm in Royston, and travelling to Luton College on day release to study. It was a tricky journey, requiring early starts and late finishes. Five years later exams were passed – given his birthday was late in the school year, and he didn’t follow the six year university/articled route, he became one of the youngest Chartered Accountants ever to qualify.

Nigel had moved out of Orchard Way into a flat which happened to be in the same block as his office. It was previously occupied by the infamously oddball Miss Battersby, a clerk at the firm who smoked like a chimney, and drank like a fish. Once the bottles had been cleared out, Dad repainted the nicotine stained walls – but the smell of tobacco never fully went away. However qualification opened doors to a new future, and Nigel soon moved on to a big London accounting firm called Peat, Marwick and Mitchell, known today as KPMG. He shared rooms in London and seemed to be living the life…

But a year later he was back in Royston, and back at Watts Knowles. My aspirational nature could not see the sense in this. He had done it, broken out, left our small town life behind and had the world at his feet. Why would he want to give that up and come back ? Madness ! Two more years on and now he was a partner at Watts Knowles. Over the course of his career, he became senior partner, then principal, and guided his firm through restructuring, acquisitions and mergers. When he retired, he had a very successful career behind him, one that would have been much harder to attain in a big London firm. Method in that particular bit of madness, then.

Nigel has always been the rock of our family, at the centre of everything. He took control when Dad died, he made sure Mum was looked after down the years, and then he was at the heart of things when we said goodbye to her. When Molly was with him, they hosted all our family events, and now he and Catherine take that role, hosting Linda and I when we visit, and bringing the family together from around the country. He is the sinew of our family, holding the flesh together and keeping us moving. Sharing his good fortune with us all, for the good of family.

I really admire my brother, as much as I love him.