At the bottom of another cupboard, I found a small tray and a metal chocolate-box, both containing photos and documents.
I invited myself to morning coffee with Mr & Mrs CJ, and showed them a few of the photos. One was of the Deceased Lady at the seaside, in the mid-1930s I should think, with some unidentifiable younger girls. Another was of a baby — Mrs CJ and I agreed that it was probably a boy, in which case the baby may have been the Deceased Lady’s younger brother who died in infancy.
Mrs CJ told me of a recurring dream she had had after her father died: she was in a shoe-shop, one wall of which was stacked floor-to-ceiling with shoe-boxes. There was a ladder against that wall, and her father was at the top of it. Then one time, he told her: “This is the last time I’m coming here.” And she never had that dream again.
She also told me of how, years before, she had been cheated by a cowboy “tradesman” who had taken payment for installing cavity-wall insulation — in a house that didn’t have cavity walls. By the time she discovered that she had been cheated, the man was nowhere to be found.
After lunch I drove back to Suburbia Somnolenta.
[Original posting 16 January 2013]