Heather’s Hobby


Heather Halliday had a guilty secret. Heather had no idea why she'd done what she'd done. It really wasn’t in character, but she'd done it, nonetheless. She knew she should have put things right years ago, but there seemed always a reason not to.

Some sixty miles away, Margaret Thomas was about to get the surprise of her life. Margaret wasn't really one for surprises, they frightened her, and she was of a nervous disposition, a small woman with a small life, who'd lived in the same house as long as she could remember.

Nearly forty years ago when Margaret was just a girl, she'd lost her purse containing some photographs and £4 sterling. Terrible, really, considering her mother had sewn her name and address inside should she ever mislay it.

Heather deposited the padded envelope in the post box and went home for a cup of tea, a job well done she thought, and a great weight was lifted from her shoulders.

The next morning brought a small miracle into the life of Margaret Thomas along with her old purse complete with some photographs, £4 sterling and a note reading, Dear Margaret; you should never give up hope.


A kindred spirit somewhere thought Margaret, I wonder who it can be? Meanwhile, Heather unlocked the cupboard door under the stairs and proudly marvelled at her collection of faded wallets and shiny purses. There's work to be done, she thought, so much more work.