A night with Aunt Helen

When I was 10 years old, my mother had to go into hospital for several weeks for an operation which I learned later in life was a hysterectomy. Because my father was constantly up and down to the hospital while trying to hold down a job as well, it was decided that I should go and stay with my Aunt Helen.

Helen was seven years older than my mum and had never married. She was nice enough but quite old-fashioned in her ideas about child care and I found myself rather frustrated by the number of things I was suddenly not allowed to do, at least in my perception. I was also quite homesick after a couple of days.

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