Anne Josephine 3

She arrived in India having given up her training, her friends, the rest of the family and found herself in a completely different world. Ma hated India – well not India itself but her life there, still so restricted with strong overtones of the Raj. Her companions were ex-pats who indulged in tea parties, amateur dramatics, card games, riding, flower shows etc. I don’t think she saw anything of the real India at all. At home, life was equally restrictive with servants to do just about everything. She used to complain that even doing something as simple as flower arranging was denied her – the vase was prepared for her, the blooms cut. There were diversions though – mainly me. Yes, the largest baby to be born in the admittedly fairly new nursing home – just under 10lbs – sort of shows in this photo! Here we are plus my granny who flew over to view the new arrival and caused a certain amount of havoc, as she was wont.
I wasn’t quite three when we all returned home and my brother was born a year later. How lucky we both were to have an equally delightful Ma as well as lovely Pa. She was great fun – she loved to sing and dance, to tell stories, to dress up. She was sporty – swimming, badminton, tennis, skating, swimming, skiing- and  a firm believer that if the sun shone you had to be outside – no skulking in bedrooms reading. Good manners were expected at all times – thank you letters were written, permission asked to leave the table and on no account should you ever wee in the garden (yes serious trouble after that misdemeanour), speak with your mouthful, answer back or put your elbows on the table. When we went up to town ie London, gloves were worn and best frocks put on.
She was quite strict when I was a teenager – all goings on regarded (quite rightly) with suspicion. She was far less laissez-faire than Pa and regarded young men wearing red trousers, toting guitars, answering to the name of Valentine, living in Norwood (actually just one young man) to be the personification of all that was dangerous! Rather annoying, quite a few of the young men fancied her more than me.
She could knit, sew, put up shelves, change a wheel, mend a fuse and was a passionate gardener and ruthless bridge player. Housework and cooking were lesser priorities and she was spectacularly terrible at telling jokes.
She was glamorous, and funny, kind and generous, warm and loving. I think she feared that she had never done enough with her life but she touched and influenced people in more ways that she ever realised.