Well, here we are, the disfunctional Fotheringhams, Christmas 1956. I'm the smallest one. Who knows why my mother is smiling? She was the one that was always the most angry/dissatisfied/depressed.
And how did we get here, from Manchester to Sidmouth in December in the 1950's? Did we have roads then? We will have got there in a car, I know that much, but it must have taken hours and my father will have chain-smoked all the way.

A cup half empty sort of person, when I was a child I used to look at the photo in extras and wonder why they'd left me outside on my own. It took me some decades to realise there must have been someone holding the camera...........