I still wonder just who Aunt Nell was. She was known as my great aunt, the little sister of my grandmother, Mella, but Nell was born years after the death of Mella’s father. Who knows, perhaps she was my grandmorher’s little sister although my great-grandmother, the widowed Mary Irwin, should have received an award for giving birth in her middle 60s.
Then there’s Uncle Frank, my father’s youngest brother but that was all handled badly and it was obvious he was a ring-in too. A dreadful example was Nanna’s front room with the hardbacked chairs, the lace doilies and the two photos of the little boys, Charlie and Robbie, in pride of place over the piano. Where was the photo of Frankie? And no prizes for guessing he was the son of Great Aunt Bella. Why did they bother? I shouldn’t be surprised, the facade can bear little relation to truth.
