Reflections

There was nothing complicated about my father. His parentless childhood and unhappy life in the foster home could have made him bitter, but they didn't. A truly handsome man with a personality and presence that drew people in meant he was loved and respected everywhere he went. He was also an adventurer. His time in the Royal Navy made him restless, we were always on the move. He'd start up a business, grow bored and off we'd go to try our luck elsewhere. It was a never-ending pattern.

The one positive thing was that we would always return home for a while. 'Home' was a large house in Surrey with a small orchard and outdoor swimming pool, we had some well-known celebrity neighbours Sir Harry Secombe lived next door.  Eric Sykes, Roy Castle, Tony Hancock, and others lived close by. I loved Surrey, especially in summer. My father was a member of the Gander Green Cricket Club as was Harry and a variety of other celebs. At the interval, Harry usually took a bucket around the spectators collecting money for charity. I loved when he'd take my hand so I could accompany him. He was an incredibly kind generous man.

Being in the UK for Christmas was always special. To travel across the Globe from scorching countries such as Africa, Australia etc. Then arrive at Heathrow Airport to find snow drifts and freezing temperatures was magical. 

 I was 8 years old. It was Christmas Eve and unbeknown to me, it was my parents' turn to host the traditional Christmas Eve Party. Anyone who saw my parents in their heyday assumed they were celebrities. They had taste, style carriage and amazing, good looks. Mum didn't relate to women, but Dad related well with everyone. They were the story of Richard Burton-Elizabeth Taylor without alcohol. Burton and Taylor married twice. My parents divorced and remarried three times!  Though not celebrities themselves, they often caught the attention of magazines and papers and were asked to model expensive brand-name clothing. They happily obliged. 
 

My bedroom was at the rear of the house out of earshot of the noisy party. I loved my bedroom. with its large sash window and pink walls. The window was too high for me to see anything other than the sky. My bed was close to the window.  As usual my father tucked me into bed and kissed me goodnight. I lay still looking up to the window smiling to myself and imagining the wonderful surprises Father Christmas would bring it didn't take long to drift off to sleep. 

I woke with a start. The full moon shone brightly through a gap in the curtains, and I smiled to myself. I turned away from the light and saw her. She was kneeling beside my bed smiling at me. A real-life fairy. I rubbed my eyes I thought I was dreaming. She had long silky curled blonde hair with a shiny tiara on her head. I thought I was dreaming. The fairy was wearing a long pale blue dress with puffed shoulders. I gasped when I saw her wings, large soft, fluffy white feathers stretched out across her back and shoulders. She leaned close I gasped again, she had bright blue eyes, shiny pink lips and smelled of roses and other flowers I couldn't name. She put a finger to her lips "Shh close your eyes and go to sleep beautiful girl. When you wake all your dreams will have come true". She kissed my forehead, and I closed my eyes. I still recall the sense of warmth and happiness I felt that evening. She was right. I had a wonderful, wonderful Christmas.

A couple of years later we returned to the UK to attend a wedding. I was invited to be a Flower Girl even though I'd never met the bride-to-be. Mum took me to collect my beautiful white lacy dress with hoop petticoats and a beautiful silver tiara. When I finally met the bride-to-be, she gave me a huge cuddle. I caught a whiff of her perfume. It smelled the same as the one my beautiful blue fairy had worn.    

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