I am late for because the plane was late.Yet when I arrive at her pretty lilac house in Dublin she flings open the door and hugs me. She talks fast in her extraordinary voice, which sounds like a flute. She doesn’t mind my lateness at all, she says: she was worried, her mother was worried, would I like a biscuit? Tony Baines, her husband of almost 30 years, looms briefly, handsomely, in a doorway to say hello.
Load More
Load More