My very first experience of a playmate was a bit of a disaster although it began well enough. Close to the bottom of the Big Hill, next to the library, there was a big house and in the huge grassy front garden was a beautiful little Wendy House. It was my first ever experience of house envy. Whenever Pappy and I passed by I’d look at it and wish it was mine. Sadly, it’s long gone and flats have been built on the site. One day, as we were on the way to the chemist, a little girl of about my age with short cropped mousey hair, reminiscent of Mia Farrow at the time, came up to the wall.
“Do you want to play in my Wendy House?” she asked.
Of course I was desperate to. Pappy wasn’t all that keen on the idea but, with a little pleading from me, said I could as long as I stayed in the garden and only until he came back from the chemist. Continue reading Memories playmates and lies