That’s my dear sister, the late Gwen Dean, brandishing me proudly as a wee bairn. Imagine having a sister already in her twenties when you were born and only because your father survived a disaster as terrible as the Great War. What are the odds on that? You’ve probably already noticed the similarity with the ‘miracle monkey’ shot. Thanks to another ‘miracle’, Photoshop, the author’s head has been transposed from this photograph with Gwen to that one. Actually, the baby on Dad’s lap wasn’t me at all – it was my cousin, Barry Mandile, with my head patched on. Sorry, Baz, it was such a great shot of Dad, I couldn’t resist.