Introducing: The Pat van Aalst Story

A three-part festive series about resilience, reinvention and doing things differently.

As we head into the festive season, I wanted to share something a little more personal than my usual finance insights. I’ll be telling my story — how I went from a childhood spent moving between Army bases, to discovering accounting almost by accident, to rebuilding my life after a serious accident, and eventually launching the practice I run today.

It’s a tale of false starts, stubborn perseverance, heavy metal, motorbikes, and finding a way to do the work I love without the jargon or the corporate nonsense.

This three-part series covers:
Part 1 — From Boarding School to Finance Manager
Part 2 — Accident, Resilience and Reinvention
Part 3 — Metal, Motorbikes and the Road Ahead

If you’re new here, I hope it gives you a sense of who I am beyond the spreadsheets. And if you’ve worked with me for a while, you might learn a few things I’ve never shared before.

Thanks for reading — and I hope you enjoy the story.

PART ONE

From Boarding School to Finance Manager

My story begins with constant relocation. I was born in the Dutch town of Alphen a/d Rijn in 1976 to a Royal Signals family, and I spent my childhood shuttling between British Army postings in Germany. To give me stability, my parents enrolled me at the Royal Alexandra and Albert School in Surrey, where I boarded from age eight until I turned 18. The experience gave me a sense of independence and continuity during a turbulent upbringing.

Academically, I’ve always been honest about my “average” GCSE grades, and an early attempt at a Business and Finance BTEC ended prematurely. In my twenties I took on factory jobs simply to pay the bills, moving from rural Spalding to Bicester in search of opportunity. A self-described early midlife crisis pushed me to enrol in a basic bookkeeping course, where I discovered a passion for transforming raw financial data into meaningful accounts. I subsequently qualified with the Association of Accounting Technicians and began studying for the Association of Chartered Certified Accountants.

My career soon gathered pace. I joined an international scientific services company as a purchase ledger assistant and was promoted to finance manager, supporting UK and European subsidiaries. There, I led initiatives such as migrating payroll to ADP, implementing BACS payments and reducing month-end close from ten working days to three, showcasing my knack for process improvement. Concerned that staying with one employer would limit my future options, I moved to the charity sector. At a large learning-disability charity, I managed assistant finance managers, prepared budgets for multiple operating divisions and automated repetitive journals. A client testimonial later described my “solution-focused analytical approach” as invaluable.

These experiences laid the groundwork for the next chapter of my life – a chapter defined by resilience and reinvention.

What neither my family nor I could have predicted was the accident that would change everything. In Part 2, you’ll see how I rebuilt my life and career from the ground up...

PART 2 

Accident, Resilience and Reinvention

In May 2016, my life took an abrupt turn when a motorcycle accident near Cambridge left me with broken legs. The injuries required seven operations and years of physiotherapy; each time I thought I was improving, complications would force me back to crutches or a wheelchair. I look back on this period with a kind of stoic humour – “assume the worst and have good insurance” – and I credit my partner for getting me through the darkest moments.

While I was still recovering, I was made redundant from my charity role, which pushed me to reconsider my career path. To generate income while I healed, my partner and I expanded a small family laundry business that we eventually sold (the sale itself was far from smooth and taught me important lessons about due diligence). During this time, I also began taking on bookkeeping assignments from home, which eventually blossomed into Pat van Aalst – Accounting Consultant.

My practice’s motto, “numbers uncomplicated, suits unnecessary,” reflects my desire to demystify accounting and ditch the stuffy image often associated with the profession. The firm offers a refreshingly straightforward approach, helping clients achieve their business goals without the jargon. I don’t just file year-end accounts; I become part of my clients’ businesses.

As a licensed AAT Fellow and a QuickBooks and Xero advisor, I provide management accounts, forecasting and consultancy as part of a Virtual Finance Manager service. This remote offering acts as a sounding board and coach for entrepreneurs, helping them obtain funding, manage risk and stay in control of their numbers. I’m particularly fond of cloud accounting because it gives clients real-time access to their reports.

During my convalescence, I balanced recovery with running the practice. I worked from home while disabled, prepared budgets and monthly accounts, and handled payroll and credit control for the laundry business. The AAT’s “Day in the Life” profile depicts me as a night owl who starts work around 10 am, processes bank transactions, takes an afternoon break to walk my dog as part of my physio, and resumes work in the evening. I value the autonomy of self-employment, though I admit the worst part of the job is fighting procrastination.

Recovery and reinvention were only part of the story.

In the final chapter, you’ll discover how heavy metal and motorbikes feed my passion—and hear directly from clients who’ve benefited from my refreshingly down-to-earth approach.

PART 3

Metal, Motorbikes and the Road Ahead

Away from the spreadsheets, I’m anything but a stereotypical accountant. My musical taste ranges from rock classics, such as Bon Jovi and U2, to Thrash and industrial metal like Metallica, Megadeth, Machine Head and Rammstein. In recent years, I’ve embraced symphonic bands like Nightwish and Within Temptation.

Motorbikes are my escape: I ride with music streaming through my helmet, and after my accident, I switched to a trike so I could keep riding while on crutches. I’m deeply embedded in the biking community and served as the National Finance Officer for the Motorcycle Action Group (MAG), which taught me the power and politics of advocacy. Weekends often involve bike rallies, tents, real ale and live music; I also enjoy gaming and share my life with three dogs.

Looking ahead, my ambitions are deliberately modest. I envision a sustainable practice that supports my partner and me without growing into a large firm. I hope to maintain a lean operation that affords regular time off to enjoy life and riding, and I acknowledge that I still spend too much time working in the business rather than on it. Retirement may be distant, but I’m honest about the balancing act of achieving comfort and freedom.

A message to clients

When you read my story, I want you to feel three things: reassured by my resilience, excited by my unconventional style, and confident in my technical expertise. I’ve come through major setbacks and still ride with a smile, and I bring the energy of a metal concert into the world of finance.

I offer clear, jargon-free guidance and a hands-on approach that turns numbers into useful insights. As I say on my website, I provide “clear finances, down-to-earth results” and encourage entrepreneurs to “free up your time and enjoy your life” while I handle the numbers.

What clients say

The value I provide isn’t measured in meteoric growth but in helping clients get control of their finances. Michael Baines of Affinity Trust describes me as “a knowledgeable, dedicated individual… with a solution-focused analytical approach”, while Mila Read of Found Legal calls me “friendly and responsive” and appreciates how I keep everything running in the background, freeing her up to focus on her own business.

Whether you’re a small company needing regular management accounts, or a larger organisation tidying up its books, my blend of resilience, expertise and rock-and-roll personality offers a refreshing alternative to the stereotype of the stuffy accountant.