The flooded quarry reflected the clouds - we rested in the shade of some trees, near a stream with a bed of shining pebbles -
Alyson had gamely hobbled along Cawfield and Walltown Crags - she'd picked her way down steep stony paths like a delicate dowager - I was impressed by how spirited and brave she was -
The newly qualified doctor had examined her ankle, reassuring her that it was badly sprained, not broken -
I knew that I would have been a whey-faced misery if I'd been in Alyson's place -
Yet her she was, telling me one more of her crazy wonderful stories -
The headmistress had a cottage in the Yorskshire Dales - she said we could drop in anytime we were there - we turned up one summer, and she wasn't there - so we broke in, and made ourselves a cup of tea -
15.30
July 11 2014
Walltown Quarry
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