May have mentioned this before. I was in Suffolk in a loaned beach hut. Most of these are owned by generations of families and some quite well off. (not me or the owner). Two women of a certain age stopped by 'my' hut and were having a conversation:
"Oh how absolutely delaitful you too lived in the Heemarlayars"
"Yes dahling I was born there, father was stationed in the Heemarlayars you know"
"Ow how fascinating, how old were you when you were born"
That's the moment I dived behind my novel trying not to haw haw too loudly.
It was the pretentious and stressed language. So wonderful to listen to, I was completely caught up in it.
Taking dogs on holiday in summer
I do fink she speaks proplee when in school though, honest guvner. My ex came from a Cockney family. His mum had a real cockney accent as did his dad. I suppose I can forgive my daughter as it is in her genes so to speak (no pun intended).
