My father was a farm labourer and he was pretty good at hedge-laying. He didn’t work permanently for one employer. We lived in Leicestershire and we always seemed to be moving from one house to another. When I was seven or eight years old we lived at a place called South Croxton. For some reason or the other we were turned out of our house. There was my father, my step-mother, my step-brother (who was eight months older than I was), and two younger kids. It was summer time. Two nights we slept out in a field. We couldn’t go off the road into the field until it was dusk in case we should be seen. We slept under the trees. My step-brother and myself had to go to houses with an old tin can to ask them for a can of water to make tea and such. We traipsed about for several days and finished up at a place called Hungarton. We had an old pram with us. I don’t think we had anything else.