Piano

When I was at primary school my father acquired a piano. The deal was simply that if we paid the removal costs we could have the instrument free. So the piano came home and I had piano lessons.

I was never any good, partly because I was too embarrassed to practice except for on Saturday afternoons and Sunday mornings. My brother and sister would be out with friends, dad would be out at some local football match and mum would be in the kitchen, cooking. So I would close the kitchen door and pretend mum couldn't hear me and I'd practice for an hour or two.

This went on for a couple of years before dad decided I wasn't taking it seriously enough and got rid of it. I didn't mind at the time but as I have got older (much older!) I've had a yearning to take up playing again.

My husband and sons started decorating the dining room at the end of last September, just before I went into hospital. I was in for four nights and each time they came to visit me I asked how the decorating was going. The usual answer was "Don't ask" or "You don't want to know" so I knew they were up to something.

And this was it! They had got me a piano. And I'm still too embarrassed to practice the wretched thing...