Great Aunt Sophie

Like hundreds of other people, including Kate, the fictional narrator in Mary Norton's "The Borrowers" books, I had a Great Aunt Sophie. She and my grandmother were the two youngest daughters in an old Scottish family of eleven.

She must have been about seventy was I was born, and lived in one of the fifteen converted flats at Great Maytham Hall, the Grade II listed buiding that was the inspiration for Frances Hodgson Burnett's "The Secret Garden". This was less than twenty miles from where we lived, so we visited often. The extensive grounds were a wonderful canvas for exploring and games of make-believe, as was Aunt Sophie's home itself, with its antique furniture and nicknacks.

I was just three years old when Great Aunt Sophie decided I was old enough to drink tea, like everyone else. Admittedly, a large amount of milk and sugar was added to make it palatable, but then again that was how I continued to enjoy the quintessential British drink well into adulthood. I can't have been much older when she made the decision that it was time for my introduction to "the harder stuff", too. I vividly remember my first sip of her Cherry Brandy and again it remained one of my favourite drinks for many years to come.

Great Aunt Sophie and her family - her daughter Constance, and Constance's daughter (also named Sophie) - continued to be a large part of our small family's life throughout my childhood. Her eightieth birthday party was probably one of the largest social gatherings I had ever attended, demonstrating her influence and affection within the community. She was a strong and independent woman who lived much of her life as the widow of a wealthy Irish landowner, raising her children and never losing her dignity.

Today, as I poured the last glassful of Cointreau from a bottle that has lasted me well over four years, I thank Aunt Sophie for her role in helping me become someone who enjoys, and yet does not abuse, alcohol.

Cheers!