“It’s called the crumble in method,
And you have to do it with butter,
Not margarine,” she’d say in the kitchen, Teaching me how to make scones. “And you want to grow this way, Not that way,” she’d say pointing sideways and then up and down,
handing me my second blue riband of the evening. “And it’s better out than in, I always say,” She’d cackle when uncle Keith let one rip In the corner of the living room. “When making roasties, King Edward’s are the best, and you’ve got to parboil them first,” she’d remind us when making a roast together at Christmas. “I’ve got to put me rollers in now we’ll be leaving in an hour,” she’d shout when outdoing us all at the Prince parties in her looks, glamour and character. And when introducing her to friends and boyfriends, she could smell the good eggs and bad eggs a mile away, and wouldn’t shy away from letting us know either. She’d encourage me to “get rid” of the ones that were no good, and hold on to the one that was. And she somehow knew - long before any of us did - the difference between them. A frightfully superstitious, intuitive and at times chilling ability to read any given situation and be, in the end, right about it all. “And we used to have horses, pulling the coal wagon and we made a good living,”
She’d recount when asked about her childhood. She somehow simultaneously knew exactly what to say and also, it seemed at the funniest of times, to say exactly what she shouldn’t…
But this inspired in us all bravery, intuition, an attitude to speak our minds to each other and love one another despite what we might say.
“Just kiss and make up now kids,
We’re family and this is what families do, Make us a cuppa tea, love, We’ll be alright.” This family now won’t know what to do without you and your Thelma instincts. The glue, the laughter, the pride of the Princes.
No more packets of crisps in the cupboards, no more making you Cinzano Biancos and lemonades.
What a gift it has been, being your granddaughter.
Nadia Prince
28/01/2025
