She was actually my mum's grandmother, and her name was Christine Cambridge. The mystery is that she never knew who her parents were. Naturally, she told stories, but her grandchildren took them with a pinch of salt. The problem was that Christine wasn't particularly nice. When her husband died, she made her children promise they wouldn't get married and leave her. When they inevitably did, they had to make it up to her by giving her money every week. None of them realised the others were too -- Christine was living in (relative) luxury while they were struggling to make ends meet. To the end of her life, my Nanna used to keep tins and packets of food in her bedroom (which, ok, is weird). She started doing it when she came out of hospital after a serious operation and was recuperating upstairs. Her mother-in-law, Christine, would come round 'to help', and instead help herself to anything she fancied from the kitchen. The pattern in these stories is that Christine
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