As young children, Patricia and I rarely saw our mother.
She was more often than not away, leaving us in the care of Nanny Vera and Patricia’s governess, Miss Vick. Fortunately, Nanny Vera was my champion in all things and I loved her dearly. She kept me occupied for hours each day, so I didn’t disturb Patricia in the schoolroom while she did her lessons with Miss Vick. It was only at teatime that my sister and I were allowed to see each other, eating downstairs, supervised by the tireless Nanny Vera.
Despite the long absences of our parents, Patricia and I were happy children.
Adsdean was our paradise, with ponies to ride, dogs to walk, woods to explore, our own tiny patch of garden on which we grew flowers and herbs, and a whole host of people who made us feel special. After Nanny Vera, my favourite person was our housekeeper, Mrs. Lankaster, who we called Hanky because she supplied us with warm hugs, which I would sink into from time to time.
We were also fortunate that our Grandmama, my father’s mother, would visit us often.
Even though the family had renounced their German titles and my Grandmother had been made a marchioness by the King, in the eyes of her family she was still a Princess. My father always kissed her hand before kissing her on the cheek and Patricia and I were taught to kiss her hand and curtsey to her. Always smartly dressed, her hair immaculate in a chignon, she wore a fob watch, several gold chains and golden snake rings on her chilblained fingers. She smoked Balkan Sobraines incessantly, a fierce smelling Russian brand of cigarettes, which she kept tucked under her petticoats. When she ran out she would glance over at Patricia or me. ‘Dear child’ she’d say ‘run up to my room and fetch more’. When she decided to cut down, she simply cut the cigarettes in half, which meant we had to go up twice as often to collect the replacements.