June evenings. When I was a child, staying late in the garden was the biggest fun for me. Wrapped in a woollen blanket, I was soaking the pages of "The Six Bullerby Children" up. I was dreaming about living in the setting of the book and becoming Lisa's friend for at least some time. Organising a secret afternoon tea or secretly writing letters to each other and sending them over a string enclosed in a box. Today, I go back…
