There appears to be no life on this mournful day with cold temperatures and steady rain. The garage door is open and inside I see a powder blue Triumph Herald — unmolested. Unmarked. Original. That’s a clue I have come to the right place. Barry Keen, a man described by George Begg as “safe, reliable – but bloody fast; a natural” always liked Standard-Triumph cars.
The back garden is immaculate, an old school saying comes to mind — “a place for everything, and everything in its place.”
Through the open door of an outbuilding I hear quiet conversation and walk in. There’s a Toyota truck and two men — one is Barry Keen. Short and stocky, blonde hair thinning and turned grey, he looks, grins and says “You’re a hard man to pin down,” and walks towards me with a rolling gait and hand outstretched.
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