Looking back at my childhood most of my early friends were linked to family and to Mum and her friends. Mostly girls, and mostly my age we rubbed along ok with each other on play dates, generally living our lives with Sindy dolls and our scooters, all done in a fog of cigarette smoke and perfume, the smell of Mums back in the 1960’s.

The road we lived in had few children living there.  Next door both ways were ladies of a certain age, and further down the road there were retired couples and those with grown up families.  Over the road, there was a council owned house, amid all the owner occupied semi detached, this was bought to house the Head of Parks and Gardens and he and his family lived directly opposite us.

There were, I think three children, a boy and girl older than me and another boy, just my age.  We became firm friends.  I have so many memories of this first friendship.  We would muck about in the back garden, building things from bits of wood his Dad brought home from work.  We had the run of the local park, excitedly we could access all areas and spent happy afternoons playing in the greenhouses and other forbidden areas.  Once we hid in a garden for ages and got in so much trouble when parents couldn’t find us.  We didn’t really care, I think this was the first time I tested my freedom, dared to do something different.

This first friendship was huge fun, we liked each other a lot, but it also taught me about loss.  For when we were about ten years old, his Dad decided they would move to a new town, a bigger park and a better job meant they were leaving.  I simply couldn’t believe it.  One day they were here and the next a big furniture van arrived and they were gone.  That was it.  In those days children were never consulted, or indeed told about much, in my world the family vanished and it seemed to happen overnight.  No communication, we weren’t even on the phone, I never saw him again.

Soon a new family arrived over the road, this time with four children, one, a girl, joined my class at school, but she never really became my friend.  We rubbed along, walked to school and chatted but she could never replace my first friend.

Of course many years have passed since then and I have many wonderful friends, but sometimes I do think about this boy, about the fun we had and a bit of me still misses him.  Of course it would never happen now, social media, phones and internet mean we all can stay in touch, but for me and him there are just the memories of summers in the sun, testing boundaries and laughing til we collapsed.

I did hear that his family eventually emigrated, but never  did know where.  I wonder if he remembers me?