That summer each day seemed the same, with the sun warming my back, I spent the mornings in the garden. For I had my family and our guests to feed. For father had gone back to sea, whilst mother had the younger children to look after, plus our paying guests. This summer there were three of them, a family from London. This was their third year staying with us. Mr Taylor went off fishing most days and left his wife to go walking. Mrs Taylor loved mothers baking and all the fresh vegetables we grew on our small holding. Our third guest was their daughter Anna, she just loved the sun, she would wander off each day, usually with a sketch pad. She never went far, but always found a quiet unmown field, and would lay amongst the wild flowers. Her all over tan suited her golden curls.

But it was her mother who fascinated me, each day she would call with a flagon of Somerset cider and lunch. The hay barn was our retreat. Bliss.