Bookpath
"The Return of Phoebe" itself sounds like the title of a children's book. They all made it safely home from Australia where they had had a great holiday. Nothing went wrong apart from getting a puncture in one of the tyres of their hire car. They drove up from London Heathrow on Easter Monday and were back in their house before midday. They came over to our suburban mansion in the afternoon. Little Margot was delighted to see us - smiling like the cat who had got the cream. Not too long ago she would grab roughly at my face without grace or decorum but yesterday her touch was gentle. One finger on my nose or a soft little palm on my cheek. It was noticeably different. Of course they were all rather jet-lagged, only just beginning to tune back in to British Summer Time. Phoebe seems to have grown. She was already quite tall for her age. She gathered all the children's books she could find and began making what she called a "bookpath". It snaked from t...