Memories.

Memories are made of this.

I’ve spent an interesting half hour listening to various versions of The Gypsy Rover (The Whistling Gypsy.) It was my favourite song as a child. I think it was even partly responsible for setting me on my intended road in life. But here’s the odd thing. I’ve always thought the final line of the chorus was ‘and he stole the heart of a lady.’ Every version I heard tonight has ‘...won the heart of a lady.’

Maybe that’s why my life turned out to be more in keeping with The Black Velvet Band.

‘Her eyes they shone like diamonds.’ Oh, yes. Thank heaven Australia had moved with the times by then, and Van Demen’s Land had become no more than an historical curiosity.

Annie wore a black velvet band at one point in my novel. She was remarkably indulgent for a goddess.