Once I had cleared some of the rooms, I climbed the sturdy steps someone had made, probably Mary, up to the attic in my grandmother's room. Amongst old suitcases and boxes I came upon a brown envelope neatly labelled "For my grandchildren". What a strange thing! It was as if it had been waiting for me all those years until I was ready to be interested. I was not sure I was, even now, but I packed it amongst the other things I had chosen to keep - photograph albums and other memories of childhood; the soft merino wool blanket from Harrods that had stopped the eiderdown slipping off my bed; a china penguin; a small upright 'vanity' chest with bone labels on the drawers, saying 'jewellery, veils, ribbons, lace, gloves'. I would have a look when I had more time. It was not for another ten years that I finally looked again at the manuscript.

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