SHE WASN’T ALWAYS like this. Starched and furrowed. She was still young, or youngish. She had everything, people said: delicate good looks, family money, a big brother to ruffle her a little and stop her becoming too prissy, a mind that could think about the world and her place in it. She might have evolved differently. But childhood is another country on the other side of vast oceans and we cannot visit and each year our memories grow paler. Different people live there.