Once, she was my little girl and she thought my rules were very hard on her. And she didn’t eat half the pickles you do, not one tenth.”“No?” ...aman, however many rules she made, said no when she meant no. Memere was a little like Papa. Sometimes Papa spoke a long time, and it meant no.“No, she didn’t. And ask Papa. Little boys need rules, too, and he was once my little boy. He didn’t think I was easy. So, I like you here on visits; I like being an indulgent grandmother; I wouldn’t be so. "Oh bum," I muttered. I looked around, and to my relief saw a branch of the bank we had used. I was now on Oxford Street, "the longest shopping street in the UK" I'd once been told. It was fully pedestrianised, so I hoofed it across to the bank.I had almost no identity on me, and the bank staff were just starting to get suspicious of my claims that I'd forgotten it all. The fact that they had my thumb print on file, plus a signature, plus I knew the address of my own branch, plus when I'd last. More

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