This is one of my favourite photographs of Marion.  I love the faraway, wistful look in her eyes, and the bunch of wild flowers.  Our Mum doesn't look very well; I think she was coming down with flu, but I like the cool RayBans.  And I am holding Soottie 50 Hairs of White, our favourite moggy, around the time he had to be rescued by the fire brigade after getting stuck in a tree.  This was when Dad was based at RAF Bridgnorth in Shropshire.  We were standing in the back garden of Married Quarters.  We didn't have garden fences, just the concrete posts and a strip of wire, and spotless laundry on a neighbour's washing line.  Marion would have been 8 or 9.