Sunday, 15 January 2012


Dear Bill,

Like you said, it's funny how memories can be thrust onto you with no warning and from unpredictable directions.
The china was in a junk shop in Hay (doubtless these days, they'd deny the use of the word junk...) and the paper was wrapped around a photo frame that had been in the loft since 1988, the year she died - yet there was the cup and saucer they used to drink their tea from, and a crossword, her handwriting as fresh as it had been, all those years ago.

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