Roy Tinworth, workingHere’s another picture of my Dad from my Grandma’s collection.

I love this one, because it’s so redolent of another bygone age of Britain. My father, a fresh-faced young man, newly employed by a paper company, looks very proper and gentlemanly. A blotter, as ubiquitous then as a computer is now, sits on his desk, ready for work. I can easily imagine an older gentleman, with a well-trimmed grey moustache and a pinstripe suit wandering in and saying “Ah, there you are, young Tinworth. Have you got the paperwork for the Moulton sale, yet?”

Just look at Dad’s grooming. The immaculately combed hair. The handkerchief carefully placed in the suit pocket. The clean, white shirt. Pity he spoiled it with too small a knot on his tie, which is pulling it slightly out of line. Still, my father was a bit of a dandy in his day and no mistake.