When I was eight, best friend at school announced that her mother had just had a baby, whose name was Nicholas. I was delighted, since my own baby sister had been born only a few days earlier. We exchanged notes every day about our respective siblings, and my mother was always pleased to have news of the baby boy. My friend lived a few miles from me and we didn’t have a car, and in those days play dates were organised well in advance between parents and our mums would accompany us on the two buses between our houses. When my mum phoned my friend’s mum to invite her daughter, she asked after Nicholas. ‘Who’s Nicholas?’ asked my friend’s mum. I don’t know which of them was the most embarrassed - I certainly was, and no doubt my friend was too.. Nobody ever mentioned Nicholas again.
I never had an imaginary friend myself, thoughI did try. I toyed with the idea of having one called Owlolly when I was around three. She never convinced me she existed but I often planned for the large family of daughters I would have in the future, who would all have French's flower names such as Jonquille, Marguerite, and Coquelicot, and Rose (I was bilingual in those days). My sister had Girl Bus and Boy Train, who had legs instead of wheels. And of course my baby brother was well acquainted with a Thing With Paws, which used to eat chocolate biscuits from the cupboard while our mother was having her afternoon rest.