Between 1942 and 1944, my family lived in Wootton, near Woodstock, in Oxfordshire, in a rented house. At home were my mother, one, later two younger sisters and a young woman who helped my mother. My father, who worked in London as a wartime civil servant in the Board of Trade, came at weekends. An aunt working in Oxford also visited, and I remember other relatives coming to stay or visit from time to time. The house was spacious, with a large garden, fruit trees, a hen run and a farm next door. The weather seems often to have been fine, and as a four-to-six-year-old, I roamed with other children around the village and was taken on walks through the surrounding countryside. My memories of the lush English country enveloping us have stayed with me ever since. It was a calm and stimulating environment. Although I knew a war was on, I felt no anxiety. We had to observe blackout, but that was not my responsibility. My parents' aim, to keep their children safe, was surely realised.

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