Drives the car round the corner; whoomph of recognition driving down that familiar little street. She's never driven down it before. A cul-de-sac, so different from the house where she spent the rest of her childhood slap bang on a main A road.
But then, at the end of the road, where the houses are grouped in a semi-circle around the turning space, where the kids used to race round and round on their little bikes, she becomes uncertain. Which of all the oh-so-similar houses is the one that's so full of memories?
Because she didn't only live here for six months or so as a toddler, time which is gone now, just one or two ghost memories surviving. This was where Poppy lived and Stella was one of so many who passed through there.
Poppy's grand-daughter Marta - a tight blonde ball of determined energy - was there during the week, while her mother was working. Gloria lived there intermittently, in between boyfriends or homes, or just wanting to be home again, home with Poppy's barbed comments and cups of strong tea. When there wasn't any family living there, Poppy took a lodger; tall gangly Tim with dark hair and long feet, who eventually became part of Poppy's extended family.
