Jocasta is here in Dorset for a week – (Jocasta editor rather than Jocasta the pheasant who is always in Dorset, residing at the bottom of the garden). I took the opportunity to take her and Mr Jocasta and the small Jocasta-lets to the seaside, and to Tyneham in particular to show them the setting for Fred. It was lovely weather, cold and crisp with the leaves turning red and gold.
It was a slightly odd sensation; I padded about the village in my wellies, pointing at the stables saying ‘that’s where Mr Bobbin the horse lives’ (J wanted to know exactly which stall), and past the ruined village stores (run by Poppy’s aunts) and realised that my imaginary ‘Tyneford’ had utterly fused with the real Tyneham, so that I’m no longer quite sure which is which. I pointed to Lovell’s tower on the horizon, and couldn’t remember what it was called in reality… and I felt so sad seeing the ruins of Burt’s cottage on the beach.
I’ve never invited someone into my imagination before in quite such a physical sense.
This is a picture Mr S took of Worbarrow/ Wobarrow Bay in Tyneham/ Tyneford…