I love this Emma. It develops so naturally through layers of vividly evoked memories, present day reflections and self examination. Maudie sounds great fun. I hope I’ll be able to read it one day.
The secrets, betrayals, dismaying fallings-out and miraculous friendships of childhood. It's surprising any of us make it to adulthood intact. More or less.
The letter - 60 years later. Your memory and of details is astonishing to me, Emma. As a reader so far removed from anything of your life, it still allows me to feel like I am there in worlds unknown to me.
Having known you for 60 years I would like to think that you and R were simply friends. And that, having suffered your own indignities at school, you were capable, even at that age, of friendship for friendships sake.
Very touching, Emma. I still wonder how a boy in my class who was habitually bullied at secondary school has fared. And about some of the school friends my daughters made in London 30 years ago. They'd come round for tea, I'd learn a little about their lives, and then they drifted away again. Where are they now?!
I remember R well, a gentle soul. Thank you for your care... On the subject of those 'marriages', I'm still 'married' to one of the boys... in real life, we're both actually properly, legally married to other partners, but when we occasionally meet, we joke about not having ever divorced - a ritual that involved getting 'the vicar' to chop through our held hands.
I love this Emma. It develops so naturally through layers of vividly evoked memories, present day reflections and self examination. Maudie sounds great fun. I hope I’ll be able to read it one day.
Helen, you've expressed exactly what I was trying to do - thank you!
The secrets, betrayals, dismaying fallings-out and miraculous friendships of childhood. It's surprising any of us make it to adulthood intact. More or less.
Thank you, Anna. Even at the age of 69, I still feel I’m making into adulthood!
The letter - 60 years later. Your memory and of details is astonishing to me, Emma. As a reader so far removed from anything of your life, it still allows me to feel like I am there in worlds unknown to me.
Thank you, Dawn.
Having known you for 60 years I would like to think that you and R were simply friends. And that, having suffered your own indignities at school, you were capable, even at that age, of friendship for friendships sake.
Thank you for this thoughtful, reassuring comment, Debby.
Very touching, Emma. I still wonder how a boy in my class who was habitually bullied at secondary school has fared. And about some of the school friends my daughters made in London 30 years ago. They'd come round for tea, I'd learn a little about their lives, and then they drifted away again. Where are they now?!
Thank you, Wendy. Lost friends .. I think about my children's past friends too.
Lovely once again. R sounds like such a good soul.
Thank you, Jocelyn.
I remember R well, a gentle soul. Thank you for your care... On the subject of those 'marriages', I'm still 'married' to one of the boys... in real life, we're both actually properly, legally married to other partners, but when we occasionally meet, we joke about not having ever divorced - a ritual that involved getting 'the vicar' to chop through our held hands.
Love this, Angie. I had forgotten about divorcing, but your image of chopping through hands flashed straight back to me as a known thing.
how the memory plays games with us .......where we good , or plain bad????
Yes, memory ... such a force in our lives. Thank you, Karen