As my dad strode across the playground wearing his motorbike helmet, the other kids gasped in admiration.
‘Is that your dad?’ asked one. ‘Is he an astronaut?’ ‘Yes,’ I nodded, my chest puffed out with pride. I was five years old, and my dad, Kevin Childerley, was my best pal. He’d take me to school each morning on his motorbike, both wearing our helmets, but he’d leave his on to impress my friends.
At home, we watched Top of The Pops together, and we’d sing and dance to my favourite song; Madonna’s ‘True Blue’. Dad wasn’t really an astronaut, but a miner, and he worked hard to look after me and my mum, Denise, and my baby brother, Ben. He was a joker and we loved playing tricks on Mum.…
