The couple with whom I am staying are self-professed members of the baby boomers generation. 'I've had the best of this world in my life', says my hostess. Her voluminous red hair is piled on top of her head and seems to be held in place with a feather. She works in a vintage clothes shop and wears something long and flowery. He is a jazz trumpeter with an easy-going demeanour. The hair he has left is grey and long.
Her middle name was chosen by her four year-old sister because of the association with John. 'They were the only children's books we had in New Zealand', she tells me. Her mother had insisted that her first name was after the Queen. 'She was bristling with fervour for royalty', she says.
He is from America and his is after his father.
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