There are no Teddy bears in Banstead Woods – that’s where we were just over a week ago when Chris and I stayed with our good friends John and Barbara (Chris and John went to school together). Having spent the night at Belmont, next morning we went for a walk in the famous woods close to the grand house where Chris lived for much of his childhood. Until then I had no idea that the woods Chris had spoken of with such fondness, where he and his brother Jeremy had many great adventures, was even better known historically as the woods King Henry VIII bought for his new love, and second wife, Anne Boleyn.

The paths are wide and the trees, mostly still winter bare, are tall and stately; the bluebells, inspired by the sunshine, were just beginning to show their blue buds and hinted at the prospect of oceans of blue under the trees in a few weeks. We stood by a man-made pond and pondered on the fact that King Henry VIII had it dug as a watering place for the deer.

There was something magical about walking in woods so full of history. I kept thinking of Anne Boleyn meeting her lover in a secret tryst in a thicket or on sweet smelling beds of bluebells. I could nearly hear the huntsmen and the courtiers. I fancied I saw King Henry on horseback. When I checked out my photographs this morning I found to my amazement that, indeed, there was magic afoot…