There was a long pause before Aunt Lizzie spoke again.
Once I was done with her wrists I sat her in a chair and started to tape her ankles.
This involved minimal cooking skills as it would either be a question of heating something my mother had already prepared or it would be something as easy as baked beans on toast.
I ran to my room again and came back with more rope, some scarves and other lengths of cloth.
Annie is about eight years older than me, so by the time I was about seven, she was old enough to be the babysitter for the rest of us.
I could also move my knees left and right to a small degree, but anything beyond that caused my ankle bindings to tighten dramatically.