In 1971, whilst giving a recital with Nancy Harris, he went outside for a breath of fresh air. It had been raining and, on returning in the dark, he put his foot in a small pothole and broke his leg.
He was all for completing the recital with his leg on a chair, but when the bone was observed sticking through his shin, an ambulance was called
In February 1975, while on his way to school (now on a bigger bike), he struck a patch of black ice. The bike went from under him, propelling him across the road into the kerb on the other side.
The injury was severe, breaking his arm so badly that the shoulder was broken and the upper joint completely reversed in his arm. A colleague happened to be following in his car, saw what happened and called for an ambulance.
The injury was so bad that the hospital thought that they might have to amputate! The surgeon did a wonderful job and gradually the circulation began to improve and danger was averted.
I had now learned to drive and passed my test in January. We had a Riley car by now, which I had never driven. I had learned in a Vauxhall Viva, compared to which the Riley was like a bus! I knew I had to bring Brian home in a few days and, because of the type of injury that he had, his arm was merely suspended in a sling, so every movement was agony for him.
I sat in the car and couldn't even see over the steering wheel and to add to my apprehension, the second gear wasn't easy to access. With cushions from chairs to elevate me and push me forward, I managed to back the car out of the garage.
I drove this monster round the block a few times, which did help, but the dreaded day came when I would have to drive into Stockport and find a parking place at the Infirmary.
My Guardian Angel didn't desert me and all went well, although on the way home I was aware of every bump and jerk and the effect it must be having on my passenger.
Brian's mother had left him some money, with which he had treated himself to a grand piano. Now he was faced with the knowledge that he may never be able to play again.
There are no words to express the anguish that Brian must have suffered during those early months as he tried to make his fingers work, to no avail.
He practised writing with his left hand and went back to work writing on the blackboard for lessons. He even conducted concerts with his left arm and Nancy had him singing again.
One exercise was to place his fingers on a piece of paper and try and release it. This went on for months and months, until one day the piece of paper floated to the floor. Joy unconfined..!
The piano was the next incentive. Through sheer determination and strength-of-will, he played the piano, although his thumb was never properly controllable again, which, in the circumstances, was but a small irritation. It had taken two long years.
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