Wendy's Workshop

It had been years since she’d last held a paintbrush – could she really create something special enough?

- Pippa Newnton

It was a lovely bright day at Barham Lake. The clear water sparkled in the sunlight. Here and there, a sudden plop showed the presence of a fish jumping to catch a fly.

As my husband Russell and I unpacked the picnic basket, Josie, our six-year-old daughter, pointed across to a bank of reeds on our left. ‘Oh, look, a butterfly.’

A beautiful creature with iridescent greenish wings fluttered above the reeds.

‘That’s a damselfly,’ Russell said. ‘It’s really a dragonfly. You can see a lot of them round water at this time of year.’

‘Hmm, it doesn’t look like a dragon,’ said Josie. ‘I like it better as a damselfly.’

I unpacked the picnic basket carefully – sandwiches, crisps, bananas, white wine for us and tea for Josie.

I had packed Josie’s special cup and saucer, a souvenir brought back from Brittany. The design was of a woman dressed in traditional costume. Josie loved it.

When the picnic was over, Josie handed her cup and saucer to Russell, who put it in the picnic basket along with the other things. He rolled up the groundsheet, and everything was stowed back in the boot of the car.

When we arrived home, I put the basket on the draining board and started to unpack. To my horror, I found Josie’s favourite cup smashed into pieces. I called Russell over and pointed to it, then I held up the biggest bit by the handle and said to Josie, ‘I’m sorry, my love, there has been an accident.’

‘My cup!’ she cried, when she saw it. ‘Can you mend it?’

Russell took the piece from my hand and looked at the shards lying in the basket. ‘I’m afraid not, darling, we’ll have to get you another one.’

‘I don’t want another one!’ she wailed, snatching the piece from his hand, ‘I want this one.’