I think this was on the veranda of the house on Cuffe Parade. Grandpa looked, when we visited in 1968, like Mahatma Ghandi. He would take his teeth out and do an impression of Mickey Mouse. I did love him. Grannie, on the other hand, I never did like and she hated me, as did/does Mehru.

I didn't really like Amy until just a few years before she died of cancer when I visited her in London and we finally got to know each other. After she died, her dear friend Jean told me that she had really respected me and thought a lot of me.

That touched me and I will always feel sad that Mehru had prevented me from speaking to her on the phone in the hospital, just a few days before she died.

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