JAYAbout four years ago, my sister was 34, ten years older than me. She and her husband have a daughter, my niece Candice, generally called Candy. Candy was sixteen and still in school at this particular time. I had watched Candy grow from a gangly, self-centred little kid who, when my sister visited our house, would follow me around all the time as if permanently stuck one pace behind me, wanting to know the answer to ev...