This story goes back a long way. My dad and my step-mum met at the 62 Car Club in Scarborough, so I was brought up with an interest in cars, going to watch rallies and helping them on events. That club was mostly about rallying, but of course everybody in it had an interest in cars generally. I would have been going there from about the age of ten, but even before that I was always a bit of a tomboy, much happier playing with Dinky Toys than dolls.
Dad was a big Ford man. I remember him having Mk2, Mk3 and Mk4 Cortinas. I used to hate burning my legs on the hot vinyl seats in summer when I got in wearing shorts after the car had been sitting in the sun – you forget that kind of thing these days. Then he had an N-reg Mk1 RS2000. He had that for four years and treated it like a baby. It was his pride and joy, but sadly he had to sell it to get a mortgage. After that they had two XR2s, a Mk1 followed by a Mk2. Those
