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Weekly Contest #51
The opening line of Daphne Du Maurier’s Rebecca is like being inside my own memories. For I’ve also returned to a house of that name. Our family home a rambling 50s villa was christened by my fey grandmother Catherine Frances Beale nee Prendergast. She named it for the storybook version. When I was born my parents brought me home there, and for years I imagined it passing to me regaling the neighbourhood kids with fanciful tales of life as its mistress. ”They don’t even use that word nowadays Dumbo.” This from long-suffering brother and...
‘I’m happily married, aren’t I?’ Gil, short for Gilbert was what anyone would consider ‘a good catch.’ His legal star was definitely on the upward trajectory, and the horrors were the two apples of Chloe’s eye. She mightn’t be the proverbial ‘helicopter mum’, but whoever coined the phrase ‘proud mum’ surely had her in mind, while the occasional drawing enjoyed a short life on most fridges Chloe actually hung her children’s artwork on walls, got the best pieces framed and wore paper chains and sellotape inner bracelets as fashion stateme...
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