I stand at the bottom of the stairs and look up at Ella.  She sits at the top with her thumb stuck in her mouth and a small, much-loved teddy under her arm.

    She won’t look up, so she stares at her scuffed blue shoes.  The little brow is furrowed in concentration, ignoring me.  What’s going on in that tiny mind?

    It starts like this every time I come to visit.  First she sulks because mum and dad have gone to work, and then she sulks harder because she knows that I’ll go away again and we won’t see each other for a while.  Now she’s trying to pretend that she doesn’t know who I am.  So I begin,

    “Can you come and help me look after Basil in the garden?”

        His name makes Ella lift her head, suddenly ‘remembering’ who I am, as she looks up at me.  Her best friend in all the world (after Teddy) is Basil and our shared love for him brings this little lady out of herself.

    “OK Gran.”  The thumb is out and the brow smoothed over as she stands up and comes as carefully down the stairs as four-year-old legs will let her.

    Basil’s hutch is in a sheltered spot near the back door.  Today he is sitting quietly thinking about life.  His long ears are folded neatly down his back and nose twitching happily.  Ella, as a kind child, watches him for a few minutes.  Another child might have waded in to pick him up and play with him, disturbing his peace.