What can YOU say in six sentences?
During that hot summer of 1976 - where troops of invading ladybirds clung to the stinging sweat on our skin - Nan spent her final days looking for images of Christ in the woodwork. She finally found him in the bookshelf; neighbours came from doors around to view the apparition, but they all agreed with callous candour that it looked more like the mark left by a fly that had been swatted. Nan was devastated, but out of awkward reverence, she removed the dusty copy of Lady Chatterley's Lover and placed it on top of her wardrobe. Here it would have breathed heavily, straddled between a Methodist Bible and a crumpled catalogue for Green Shield Stamps, lamenting how it once caused a heady queue at the town's only bookshop afer the steamy trial and rapacious media reports. Mum sat at the kitchen table, slurping tea as if that's why God gave her such a beautiful mouth, leaving traces of lipstick on the rim of the chipped cup; a porcelain and rouge palimpsest of all the afternoons she waited for him and said: "Robbie bach, the new owners of Nan's house have found some stuff, there's a book in there, you like reading, go and pick them up." I walked home with Chatterely, having discarded the Bible and Stamps in the Cut, looking to the sky where I had been told Nan had gone to live in the house on moon: that day DH Lawrence defined more than one life, but I was too young to realise.
# "Bach" is an affectionate Welsh phrase for boy.
## "the Cut" is a small urban stream.