Tomorrow, I'm going to London to meet up with writers from all over, in a pub. Among them is Bev Jackson, visiting from deepest darkest America.
Peeps may remember that a while back we discovered in an email exchange, and after some searching on the Net, that her late father's grave is in a US War Cemetery in Brittany, France. He was in the USAF and was shot down in WWII. Bev had photos of herself as a young girl with her father, but has no memory of him, sadly.
Long story short, Bev has arrived in the UK, en route to visit her father's resting place in France for the first time.
It's hard to type this without welling up.
READ BEV JACKSON'S BLOG TO READ THE WHOLE STORY... Including how she has just spoken to the only survivor of the plane... amazingly also called Jackson.
Bev and I work together on The Fiction Workhouse. Another writer there, Michelle Tandoc Pichereau, lives a stone's throw from the village in Brittany... so will also meet up with Bev. But the joy also is that the village are putting out the bunting for her, as her dad's a war hero.
Wonderful stuff.
So. Tomorrow, we meet, and she is coming to stay for a couple of days. I can't wait to meet her. The plan is to visit Charleston, and walk on the Downs, and have a picnic somewhere. And she has to put up with my cooking at a supper party tomorrow night!
Then I will see her off on the train to France, with a hug.
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