THE year 1976 was a glorious summer. The nation still had access to televised cricket and the wonderful West Indians toured with the Test Matches being played out on parched grounds.

I was a manager in a garment manufacturing factory, a job for which I was entirely unsuited.

I preferred working with heavy machinery and, if I am honest, a male workforce.

The rag trade factory workforce was entirely female, with around half being of Asian ethnicity. It was wonderful to see the brightly coloured saris each morning.

All the workers were on piece rate, paid entirely on what they produced. No work, no wages.

The highest earner was a beautiful Indian woman, appropriately called Dash, who could cut fabric like lightening. The radio tannoy was on for the entire shift and Kiki Dee and Elton John were trying not to break each other’s heart and Billy Jo Spears was off to a small cafe, out off the way.

I had the steam pressers in my department and goodness was it hot, it was little wonder that I had to drink copious amounts of cold lager each evening.

Then the Prime Minister spoilt it all by appointing Dennis Howells as Minister for Drought and it rained immediately.

VJ Connor, Bishop Auckland