A couple of years ago a young woman approached me in the market square. I was with Willa, my daughter. The woman was in photojournalism and “I’ve just taken a picture of you,” she said. “For school.” She promised to send a copy and I forgot all about it. A few months later that picture arrived and Willa looked as beautiful as ever, but seemed to be holding a 100-year-old hand. It was all you could see of me but it was quite shocking.