We’ve lived in our Suffolk village for 26 years. When we first came here in 1991 our sons still lived at home and I was busy being a mum and trying to find work.
One evening soon after moving here I ventured down to the village hall to see whether or not the Women’s Institute was on my wavelength. Within an hour I had decided it wasn’t, and instead spent the rest of the evening looking around at the unfamiliar faces and trying to imagine their life stories.
One lady in particular, I’ll call her Iris, sat a few rows in front. Solidly built and with ruddy cheeks and big capable hands, she looked the typical farmer’s wife. In the days when I could sing and wanted to join the church choir, I found that Iris was already a member. In fact as time went on, I noticed that it was Iris who unlocked…
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