Anka, autumn 1964

Anka returned to her book. She couldn’t help but smile, noticing certain similarities between herself and the book's Alice – the armchair, the mirror above the fireplace, winter outside the windows. A cat on her lap would be nice as well, but considering Mum’s allergy, that seemed rather unlikely.

‘Mum,’ she said in a sudden burst of inspiration. ‘Let’s play chess.’

Mum looked up from her book and gave her a piercing glance. She was reading The Clocks, Agatha Christie’s latest crime novel. Mum adored Agatha Christie.

‘Chess?’

‘That sounds like a good idea to me,’ Dad chimed in. ‘You haven't played in a long time. I'd love to watch. You have…’ he glanced at the clock, ‘half an hour, then we’re watching the Evening News.’

‘Fine, set it up,’ Mum agreed after a moment’s thought. ‘Black or white?’

Anka took the chessboard out of the drawer and carefully placed it on the table.

‘I’ll take white,’ she declared.