It might have been just another tradie’s shop – they’re a dime a dozen, aren’t they?

He was a drummer in a band, quite a story he owned, with a feminist wife and a couple of confused kids.

But Jim, I could relate to, when he came in to the shop.

So, there was an XK120 sitting under a cloth. It had an owner, a well-to-do lawyer who wanted to restore it to its former glory.

Jim, he was in his seventies and did he have a history, I loved talking to him.

He’d come in about lunch time, a civilised hour for the old fella, and he’d work on the missing guard.

The XK120 had a left guard, but no right guard. And, Jim, he was one of the old lead and file boys, and I watched him make a mirror image of the missing piece, that was so needed. Not, in a day, not in a week, not in a month, but he did it.

And I take my hat off to him. He was an absolute artist.

And we’d go off to afternoon tea, and we’d have our coffee and Jim would have his three beers and go home to his missus.

When it comes to a story, you won’t get much better than that.