I was 13 when we moved to Cornwall: me, my mum, my younger brother, Laurie, and my older sister, Hayley. We had been living in Northampton, and before that, Rugby. We’d been through a tough time — though I don’t think we were anything special. Lots of people have hard times. My parents had split up; my dad wasn’t around at the time, my mum was a nurse and she had to work long hours. She used to come home exhausted. Me, Laurie and Hayley would clean the house, cook dinner, take ourselves to school.

We used to holiday in Cornwall with my aunty, who lived in a village called Summercourt. Mum knew we enjoyed going there. She fancied a change, I suppose — something that would make us all happier. So one day she said: “Do you fancy moving to Corn-wall?”

We went to stay with my aunty while Mum sorted things out in Northampton. A few months later, she came down and we moved to Newquay and rented a holiday flat by Porth beach. By chance, Mum saw an advertisement for a house, Glan-y-mor, for sale that was practically opposite. She didn’t really have the money. But she wanted to go for it. It’s a big house. It used to be a B&B. Originally it would have had 12 or 13 bedrooms. Mum didn’t buy the whole house, though. A couple owned it, and we bought about half of it. They put up walls to separate us. When we moved in, it was still undivided. For the first couple of weeks we’d come down to breakfast in our kitchen, and they’d be eating theirs in their kitchen next to us. That was really weird.

We had three floors and an attic. There were six bedrooms — I shared a bedroom with my brother, and Mum rented out rooms to lodgers to supplement her income — a bath-room, two shower rooms, though only one shower worked and it leaked, a tiny living room and a kitchen leading out to a little back yard. There was a dining room downstairs, which ended up as a storage room, filled with surfboards and materials for renovating the house. It was a mess, that room. Mum had seen the place’s potential but hadn’t realised how much work it needed. We had to rewire it all. There was no heating — though we did have an open fire in the living room.

I decorated nearly every room with my dad. He still lived in Rugby, and I think Mum conned him a bit: “Come down for a holiday. Oh, and there’s a little bit of painting that needs doing.” He’s a painter and decorator by trade. As soon as he got here, he reluctantly got on with it. It was in such a state. When you start stripping wallpaper in an old house all the plaster and mortar comes away. There were massive cracks in the plaster. It turned into a monster job.

We had so many good times there, even though it was cold and a bit run-down — parties and get-togethers and singalongs. It has always been a beautiful house in that sense. Mum played music all the time: Van Morrison, Pink Floyd, Stevie Wonder, Michael Jackson. She sang in a band when she was younger.

I started playing guitar when we lived in Summercourt. My uncle played, and one day he did a little blues riff and I was like: “Whoa! I’ve got to learn how to do that.”

I would play guitar and sing any time I was on my own. It was one of the few things I had to fill the time. Newquay is full of young people and, especially in winter when there are no tourists and half the shops are closed, there isn’t much to do except hang around and get drunk. Anyway, I’d often go home early to play guitar. My mates would go: “You boring bastard!” But I knew I wanted to do music for a living. I used to get music books out of the library. I found a Beatles book with their songs and chords in — that helped a lot; I would sit and listen to my favourite songs on the radio and try to work them out.

The first time I went busking was in Truro outside Marks & Spencer. I was about 15. I did it to get used to singing in front of people. I went with my mate and we made about three quid in four hours! I got better, and sometimes I made up to £70 in an hour. It gave me the confidence to do what I do now.

I moved out when I turned 18. My mum still lives there and Laurie does, too, though he’s away working a lot. Hayley lives with me in London. Mum has nearly lost the place a couple of times — the mortgage is too much, really. But now I can help her. I don’t want her to ever let it go. I’ve never seen that house in peak condition, so I’m really looking forward to seeing it when it’s done. I think it will be beautiful. Living by the sea gave me a sense of how insignificant your problems can be. In a town or city, you get consumed by all this stuff you think is a big deal. And, really, it’s not. You feel freer, more natural, when you’re by the sea. I hope I’ll live there again.

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