’I would like to get into your car without feeling like Velma’

FRIDAY, 10pm, and I’m in Cork Airport, anticipating the moment of my sister’s arrival from London with the feeling that this wonderful moment cannot come quickly enough.

The airport police are prowling the forecourt kerbs for unattended cars and I am not in mine, only looking at it from my vantage point in the doorway of arrivals.

Even when parked legally, it looks intrinsically criminal, on several counts.