There were codes. I only ever knew I'd transgressed them after I'd made the slip. I asked her a question about Churchill once. "Sir Winston to you," she snapped.
Thereby inoculating me against the Tory world view.
She never worked. She put meals on the table. She insisted on an hour to herself after lunch so she could listen to Women's Hour. "Go to your rooms and play- quietly". A daily woman came in to do the cleaning.
In my farthest memories I'm playing round her feet. She is big-boned, statuesque- a sulky giantess. The games are in all in my head.
I can't get used to her being so much smaller than I am. So flimsy.