Our father was in charge of us for the day,which was fairly unusual final June, while she was on holiday in France, and my sister Beryl – who’s looking into the camera in this picture – walked into a shop to buy a postcard. There on the carousel was this photograph,the same as the one that had stood on my parents’ mantelpiece for decades. “C’est moi!” she told the shopkeeper. She posted one to me and one to our younger sister, Ruth, and with the words “Love Beryl.”I occupy no memory of the picture being taken. We were at the Pleasure Gardens in Battersea Park,London, during the Festival of Britain, or our father was in charge of us for the day,which was fairly unusual. I don’t know where our mother was; she could occupy been visiting friends or relatives, but I remember the hustle and bustle of the festival, and the press of people. It wasn’t what we were used to.
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Source: theguardian.com