I arrived in time to see my brother a few hours before he died. He knew me and I talked of old times as his hand turned the rings on my finger over and over.
My father called me Baby Ann until I was ten and my brothers and sister had to endure this precocious spoilt child. Eddie always complained about the way I would behave when he took me to the pictures, always wanting to be the centre of attraction, running up and down the aisle and dancing to the music. Brother Ron even had to take me on his honeymoon.
Eddie was 15 years older than me and whenever we spoke on the telephone he would always say “hello kid”. No one will ever call me kid again and I am so sad.