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The table was covered in the bright green cloth of Lincoln scattered with children’s games, the reflection in the large mirror of the heavy Victorian sideboard reproduce the image of the china tea service, the brass oil lamp and the big family bible. In the other corner was the Grandfather clock no longer ticking and the hearth of the fire place with it’s big cast iron fender framing the roaring open coal fire reminded me of the days of my childhood visiting my Great, Great Aunt Caroline. This room was virtually identical to her front parlour right down to the piano that now lay silent but in my mind I could hear the tinkling notes that over 30 years ago I had heard when my brother attempted to play. But I wasn’t in Aunt Carrie’s house, I was stood in the Victorian parlour in the Museum of Nottingham Life at the Brew House Yard.
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