I met Brian and Katy on a beautiful spring morning, having carefully negotiated a rough, potted track that led from the road to their home - a converted, flint school house, set amongst Sussex fields and hedgerows.
Brian and Katy live uncomplicated, happy lives as retired tenants on the Estate. Originally farm workers, mechanisation meant that farms employed fewer people so they moved with the times, both landing jobs at a local battery turkey farm. Brian would drive the delivery lorries and Katy was part of the packing team.
When a recession hit in the 1980s, Brian and Katy had to adapt again. The bank pulled a loan on the turkey farm and it was forced into immediate closure. Katy recalled being called into the manager's office where she was told simply that she was laid off and to go home. Somehow Brian managed to find another job as a lorry driver and then servicing and maintaining lorries for a haulage firm - he did this for many years before retiring.
Despite having a pretty tough time of it, without much spare cash, I was struck by how happy Brian and Katy are together. Their home looks hardly to have changed since the 1970s - and although they are convinced they share it with the ghost of a local lad from the schoolhouse days, they don't seem to mind. Outside are a couple of old cars, Brian's workshop and a washing line. At the front is an old metal bread bin, sat against the fence. This, they are careful to explain, is their postbox, chosen for its dog-proof properties to prevent their terrier from eating the post before they can get to it. And this kind of sums up Brian and Katy for me - simple but resourceful - cheerful survivors of a fast changing world.