8 • The Sunday Times MagazineSabrina
Mike and I have been together since 2005. You get less
for murder, right? We met at work — both of us are in
the fire service [Mike is a station commander for the
London Fire Brigade]. After an earlier relationship with
someone at work I’d sworn myself off another firefighter,
but then I met Mike. I was covering a shift at his station
and there he was, arms crossed. He just went, “All
right?” I thought he was a bit moody but actually he was
trying to play it cool. Hilarious! Anyway, we ended up
becoming really good friends and got married in 2007.
We’re both very aware of the dangers of our job, but
also of the reality. We know how much training goes into
firefighting, how strong your teams are, the procedures
that keep you safe. That has made us far more relaxed
than we’d have been if one of us was in a different
industry. But there was one notable exception. Mike
had been called out on a job one day when one of the
guys told me there had been an incident: a firefighter
injury involving Mike’s truck. “It might be him.”
My whole world was about to fall apart. I was going
to become one of the people we see every day in the
fire service — people who wake up, have a bowl of
cornflakes, everything completely normal, only for
something to happen that changes their lives
irreversibly. As we rushed to the incident, I felt torn
between the role of responder but also as a loved one, full
of fear and anxiety. They were longest minutes of my life.
When I learnt it wasn’t Mike who was hurt I was
incredibly relieved, but then I felt guilty because our
colleague was hurt — our friend. He’s fine now, but
that’s when I started doing research into how firefighters
make decisions under pressure, how we can develop
techniques to reduce human error and keep us safer at
work. I’m still developing this as an honorary research
fellow at Cardiff University. [She completed a PhD in
psychology there in 2013.]
Mike is nine years older than me. He’d been married
before and has two amazing sons. When I told him
about my childhood, it was hard for him. He just wantedto protect me. I hadn’t really told many people about
my past at that point because it was still so raw.
I grew up in Newport, south Wales. When I was nine
my father died of a brain tumour. My mum found it
incredibly difficult to cope and there was a family
breakdown: her business went under and we were
living in abject poverty, social services back and forth
all the time. When someone goes to war with their
demons, everyone around them gets hit by the
shrapnel. By 15 I was sleeping rough, on the streets,
in doorways, in derelict buildings. I still went to school
— I think because I wanted to retain some control over
my life. But being on the streets was horrible. I was
punched, kicked and spat at by people who saw me as
someone with no value. I felt utterly humiliated.
I began selling The Big Issue and it saved my life. It gave
me structure, self-esteem. Over time I saved money,
moved away and started again. I joined the fire service
aged 18 [where she was the only woman at her station]
because here we deal with people going through the
worst experience of their lives. I can relate to that. Life
with Mike and our 12-year-old daughter, Gabriella, feels
secure. As we see loss a lot in our work, we appreciate
things more. I thank my lucky stars all the time.
I’ve been involved in several significant terror attacks
in London and I always tell Gabby — we want to keep“By 15 I was sleeping rough. I was
punched and spat at by people who
saw me as someone with no value”
The West Sussex chief fire officer, psychologist and author and her firefighter husband
Main: Sabrina,
38, and Mike, 47,
off duty in Surrey.
Inset: Sabrina
at the controls
of a fire engineRELATIVE VALUES
Sabrina Cohen-Hatton
& Mike Hatton