She opened her front door, pink polka dot trolley ready to roll, tucking the key safely into her zipped pocket.
"Why hello - good to see you, Jean. What brings you here?"
Jean bustled up the pathway carrying several bags and deposited one of them by Mum's feet. Wiping her head with a white, lacy hankie, she proceeded to carry on a conversation which the two of them had been having the previous day.
"I've finally found the answer to that clue in the crossword, Mum and I've brought you the books we were talking about. Now I don't want them back, you can pass them on if you will. The author is a local lass and the stories are set in Blackpool. I've enjoyed reading them and I'm sure you will, too. I can see you're off out so I won't stay."
"Jean, I'm just walking down the road to the shop so let's walk together. Just let me put the books in the porch."
Off they went, chatting nineteen to the dozen, until they parted, Jean heading towards the Tower and Mum to her voluntary job at the Charity Shop. The sun was shining this Bank Holiday weekend and there were plenty of people out and about sampling the delights of the resort.
My morals were not corrupted in any way whatsoever!
This was a friendly, 'nostalgic saga set in wartime Blackpool'. Great stuff! I think I'll read another of my crime novels before I tackle the next book.
xx