Ever had an older friend who dazzled you with her independence and unique style?
Claire White was that person for me in my late teens.
Widowed young, children now grown, she lived alone, grew flowers and herbs, read tea leaves and tarot cards, and was unlike any other woman I had ever met. She had an ear for the divine and an eye for magic.
Miss Claire became my mentor. She both supported and challenged me, an extremely rebellious teenager living in a town that was the staid and stultifying British heart of Jamaica.
I wrote about her in my first book, A Good Home.
Years later, I helped her to complete her own book and publish it. And later still, I visited her as she struggled with dementia. Despite her memory loss, the love and respect between us was as strong as ever. As was the mischief that was…
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