I grew up less than a mile from the racecourse, so I used to play truant every raceday. I’d change out of my school clothes into my race clothes, climb over the railway, and eat my lunch by the fence at the top of the hill.

It was great, although it might have contributed to me failing all nine of the O-Levels I sat. I was always interested in racing, and my sister married an Irish jockey called Paddy Cowley, who won some good races including the Welsh National twice, so I was always being steered in that direction, and when I failed my exams my dad told me to go and get myself a job or be a bum somewhere else. I was small, I could ride and I’d no education, so what else could I do? I went into stables.