Motorcycles were forbidden fruit in our house so when I bought the BSA A7 500 I knew there was no way to hide it like I had all the previous tiddlers, so bold as brass I parked it right out front knowing a shitstorm was inevitable.

However both parents were not home when I made my grand entrance but my sister Diana (always a solid backup) was excited and dying for a ride so I took her slowly around town with much revving and unnecessary downshifts and lied about how fast we'd gone.

When I brought her safely back home, my mother was there and Diana rushed in shouing in excitement "Mummy, mummy Michael took me out on his motorbike and we went 80 mph!"

You can imagine the fall out which was pretty bad and only slightly ameliorated when Dad saw the bike and said to Mum "Dianaa's just exaggerating dear, that old bike can probably not go much faster than 60 at best."

My father liked powerful cars he'd had a Wolseley 6/80 and a Triumph 2.5 PI an Audi (which neither of us liked) and last and best the Wolseley 6-110 which is a gorgeous motor I'd love to own even today. Dad got the police pursuit option engine and suspension but kept the fully de luxe interior. I was allowed to take it out on weekends to drive my sister to her riding stable in Widford. You could burn up the twisties like a sportscar, she handled so well and that big 6 had torque in spades.

So Dad knew about motor vehicles even though he had a big hangup about motorbikes and it took a while before I found out why.

However he was right about my old BSA's top speed so my first lesson was to find out why it wouldn't go 60 without shaking to death, shedding parts and generally begging me to