My mother’s second husband. He died suddenly on this day in 1992. He was 61. In this photo he is in his early twenties in probably his first job. Haskoba was a postwar Polish business which specialised in sending medicines and parcels of essential goods to families in Poland.

There were many of these firms in London at the time, some of which lasted until quite recently, especially when they diversified into travel agencies. But in the nineteen fifties they not only provided necessities to Poland but were also a welcome source of employment to tens of young and not so young Poles who found themselves in England after the war.

Earls Court played host to Haskoba, and Tazab; Fregata could be found in Soho. High Street Kensington was another area where several of these firms abounded. Sadly their names escape me.

My mother worked in most of them at one time or another. But Haskoba is where she met her future husband.

She was working in the office, he in the packing department. He always said he had fallen in love with her straight away. I think it took her longer. She was already married and had a child, me, and was not really thinking of more commitment. To complicate matters further there was another man equally interested in her. Did I mention how attractive she was?

So they all worked together, with about fifty other Poles and waited for their luck to turn. And spectacularly it did.

In those days playing the football pools was a national pastime. People played individually and in groups and in workplace syndicates. Sometimes they won half a crown, sometimes nothing, but everyone always hoped for the jackpot.

And one day, in 1959 I think, the incredible happened. Almost the entire workforce of Haskoba was involved. They won the jackpot! The spoils were shared according to the amount of the investment. My mother received just over three thousand pounds. So did Zbyszek. An enormous amount. Life changing – A cliche but oh so true.

Some things never changed though.

Zbyszek always wore a bow tie. The photo above shows him in normal work wear. Casual was never his style!

When he died he left very little. His wardrobe was Spartan – almost monastic – except for a hundred or so silk bow ties!

He would have been 95 this year. I still miss him.