Once they had finished organising their new home, I went to install their hi-fi system which included a new pair of BBC monitor loudspeakers. Dad was out in the stonery and Mum was busy in the kitchen. As soon as it was ready to test, I chose the record of Jackie’s Barbirolli Elgar Concerto and turned the volume up high. The sound was superb. I closed my eyes and could see Jackie performing it at the Royal Festival Hall: how she moved and how her hair flew. After a while, I went into the kitchen, and there was Mum, bent over the breakfast table, her head in her hands, crying. I rushed to turn off the music. Back in the kitchen, I put my arm round her. ‘I’m so sorry, Mum, that was so foolish of me. I should have thought.’ […] Over elevenses, I showed them how to use the stereo, but I had hidden Jackie’s record away. Mum was never again able to listen to Jackie’s playing.