I was born at Blunderstone, in Suffolk, in the east of England, and was given my poor father’s name, David Copperfield. Sadly, he never saw me. He was much older than my mother when they married, and died six months before I was born. My father’s death made my beautiful young mother very unhappy, and she knew she would find life extremely difficult with a new baby and no husband.

      The richest and most important person in our family was my father’s aunt, Miss Betsey Trotwood. She had in fact been married once, to a handsome young husband. But because he demanded money from her, and sometimes beat her, she decided they should separate. He went abroad, and soon news came of his death. Miss Trotwood bought a small house by the sea, and lived there alone, with only one servant.

      She had not spoken to my father since his marriage, because she considered he had made a mistake in marrying a very young girl. But just before I was born, when she heard that my mother was expecting a baby, she came to visit Blunderstone.

      It was a cold, windy Friday afternoon in March. My mother was sitting by the fire, feeling very lonely and unhappy, and crying a little. Suddenly a stern, strange-looking face appeared at the window.

      ‘Open the door!’ ordered the stern-faced lady. My mother was shocked, but obeyed at once. ‘You must be David Copperfield’s wife,’ said the lady as she entered. ‘I’m Betsey Trotwood. You’ve heard of me?’

      ‘Yes,’ whispered my mother, trembling.

      ‘How young you are!’ cried Miss Betsey. ‘Just a baby!’

      My mother started sobbing again. ‘I know I look like a child! I know I was young to be a wife, and I’m young to be a mother! But perhaps I’ll die before I become a mother!’

      ‘Come, come!’ answered Miss Betsey. ‘Have some tea. Then you’ll feel better. What do you call your girl?’

      ‘My girl? I don’t know yet that it will be a girl,’ replied my mother miserably.

      ‘No, I don’t mean the baby, I mean your servant!’

      ‘Her name’s Peggotty. Her first name’s Clara, the same as mine, so I call her by her family name, you see.’

      ‘What a terrible name! However, never mind. Peggotty!’ she called, going to the door. ‘Bring Mrs Copperfield some tea at once!’ She sat down again and continued speaking. ‘You were talking about the baby. I’m sure it’ll be a girl. Now, as soon as she’s born …’

      ‘He, perhaps,’ said my mother bravely.

      ‘Don’t be stupid, of course it’ll be a she. I’m going to send her to school, and educate her well. I want to prevent her from making the mistakes I’ve made in life.’ Miss Betsey looked quite angry as she said this. My mother said nothing, as she was not feeling at all well. ‘But tell me, were you and your husband happy?’ asked Miss Betsey.

      This made my poor mother feel worse than ever. ‘I know I wasn’t very sensible – about money – or cooking – or things like that!’ she sobbed. ‘But we loved each other – and he was helping me to learn – and then he died! Oh! Oh!’ And she fell back in her chair, completely unconscious.

      Peggotty, who came in just then with the tea, realized how serious the situation