Anna's room was at the front of the house and her face was usually at the window when I arrived. And left. Straight in the front door, turn left and that was our den for the hour, day or overnight. We barricaded ourselves in with teddies, giggles and anything sweet. Of course I would finish the bag and Anna would stick her tongue out and smile, the sherbert lemon still intact, slowly dissolving, savouring the flavour. And weeks after May birthdays Anna would produce half a Mars bar that she'd stashed away. Drawing out the gift of delicious chocolate saved for our secret midnight feasts.