His eyes twinkled with the laughter he had always been filled with. ‘Father?’ ‘Well, Mary, at least she doesn’t seem to be addled. At least no... any more than she always was.’ ‘Cease your blathering, Michael O’Brien,’ a woman’s voice answered, as firm as she had always been. I smothered a sudden urge to giggle as I looked from my towering father to my petite and commanding mother. She was waggling her finger under his nose, as I had seen a thousand times before. She sniffed and turned towards. ” I knew it all right, I’d bought a cupcake in there just a couple of hours earlier. At least it wasn’t the kind of picture that would be hung in a bakery. And at least it hadn’t been my father who bought it. On the way to the bus stop I stopped to look in the window of the bakery. At least my picture wasn’t on display, but some yummy-looking cookies were. I was debating whether to buy any when the owner spotted me and beckoned me in. He looked like a baker—round and soft– and always with a big. More

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