‘I had a lovely necklace once,’ said my grandmother. ‘It could have been yours.’
‘Was it stolen?’
‘No. In 1923, when I was fifteen, I sold it.’
‘I could sit on my hair, but the fashion was for Eton bobs. When Father forbade it, I sneaked out, sold the necklace and went to my brother’s barber.’
I couldn’t imagine my grandmother, the perfect housewife, as a teenage rebel.
‘Was your father angry?’
‘Even angrier,’ she said, ‘when I started wearing skirts above the knee and pale stockings!’
She laughed, ‘keep annoying your parents, darling. It’s what youth is for.’
Words and photograph copyright Paula Harmon 2017. Not be reproduced without the author’s express permission.