To me, looking back, Jean was the epitome of a kindly Aunt often found between the covers of an Enid Blyton novel and living in locations surrounded by picturesque countryside or close to the sea.    

Nephews and nieces spending frightfully hot summer days enjoying spiffing picnics with lashings of lemonade.     Everything being jolly good fun with nothing beastly happening.  What Ho!

Not quite the same location for me, though.  In my early school days, I began visiting Uncle Maurice (Mum's younger brother) & Auntie Jean at their house in Dukinfield, in those days part of Cheshire but now swallowed up by  Greater Manchester. Following the Industrial Revolution it became the site of coal mining & cotton manufacturing. Some views of the mills, often reminded me of an L S Lowry painting.

Maybe not exactly Five on a Treasure Island but visiting them regularly at weekends was an adventure for me.    Two bus journeys from my home in Droylsden (famous only for the site of the Robertson's Jam Factory!) and then a short walk to South View, the house rented by Jean & Maurice where there was always a warm and enthusiastic welcome.   It was a huge property in extensive grounds with footpaths and rockeries, ideal territory for games of Tag or Hide & Seek with my Cousin Karen.

In 1957, Maurice was offered a job in Edmonton, Canada, and the family moved there when I would have been   eleven years old.

They returned in 1959, with a brother for Karen - Mark, born in November the previous year. I remember meeting them at Manchester (Ringway) Airport and hoping Karen would remember our times together at South View.     I tapped her on the shoulder as a reminder of our games of Tag.  She just turned to me and voiced, in a Canadian accent, an expression I had not heard this side of the Atlantic before "Quit that!"       But our friendship was soon restored.

Karen doesn't now remember this exchange of words.  But I don't recall, as she does, the time I went to South   View when she was unwell and read her a story about a lamb. 

In 1961, the Davies family moved to Taplow, Buckinghamshire and this was when the adventures really began!  I spent many holidays there, occasionally when my mother was almost a full-time carer for her father and a family holiday together was not always possible.

They were summers filled with sunshine and excitement; holidays eagerly anticipated where I was welcomed into the Davies family. 

In these teenage years, I usually traveled down from Droylsden on my own.  A train from Manchester Piccadilly to Euston then a bus to Taplow.  But as a keen 'plane spotter in those days (yes, I know!) I discovered a BOAC transatlantic Boeing 707 flight touched down in Manchester before completing its journey to Heathrow. Enough said. I was on it!

Every day in Taplow was an adventure.  Cycling along the leafy, undulating lanes of Hitcham & Burnham, the freedom of the wind blowing through my hair (I had much more then;  well it was the 1960's!), on through Cliveden and even Burnham Beeches.  A great two-wheeled explorer charting new territories!  

As a family we went out on trips, often together, especially at weekends.  To Windsor where we watched the Changing of the Guard and I climbed the Round Tower feeling like King of the Castle!  And occasional visits to Windsor in the evening to the Wimpy Bar where they had a screen showing latest pop music. State of the Art I can tell you

Maurice & Jean owned the boat ''Karma' moored on the Thames and many happy hours were spent navigating the byways and locks of this picturesque river as it meanders through Buckinghamshire and Berkshire.  From King of the Castle in Windsor to Captain (briefly!) of my own ship.

Regular visits to Heathrow Airport for the plane spotters of the family. Up to the top of Queen's Building for uninterrupted views of the runways followed by a drink and jam doughnut in Terminal 3.  We knew how to live!

Then there was fishing with Uncle Maurice at Boveney, close to Eton.  I remember trekking through the woods to the river.  What I don't  remember is catching anything but nothing could diminish the sense of companionship of spending time with my Uncle on the peaceful banks of the River Thames.

I realise now with great certainty that these visits to Dukinfield and Taplow helped to shape my life. 

I enjoyed a wonderful, loving home life but so much appreciated time spent with Jean and family.    It helped me to value and develop my independence.  The visits gave me confidence, as a teenager, to travel long distances by public transport on my own.  To enjoy a different life-style with another part of the family where I always felt relaxed, comfortable and forever welcome.

How fortunate I am to have so many happy memories and to feel the warmth of an extended family just as much today as I did then.  Golly gosh.

Jean's Nephew