We’ve had such a glorious May – well, in fact, April was rather lovely too when we were away with my cousins in Whitby, so it’s a little disappointing that on the first day of June everywhere is grey. It’s not actually cold, although the dull skies make it feel chilly, and at least it’s not raining although it’s forecast to arrive in a couple of hours.
June 1st always registers with me because my first friend, Richard, was born on this date, almost six months after me. He lived next door to where we lived in Cambridge. Our flat where was built by his grandfather’s firm, who built all the houses in our road. We lived in a ground floor flat owned by the dear old lady upstairs, his family lived in a similar flat on the other side of the drive.
Our parents were similar ages and they became very close friends, as did my sister and I with him and his sister. I was born in January, and he arrived six months later. Our sisters arrived two years after us, and in our early years we became best friends. Richard and I were the Terrible Two (in our own little world, really we were good children), and we were also the Lone Ranger (known as Kemo Sabe) and Tonto. We had roller-skates, second-hand trikes (tricycles) and bikes, hula-hoops, all the things from childhood in those days. Our sisters called themselves Uggi and Nuffy – but no-one ever knew why. Because our families were close, we shared occasions like birthdays, Guy Fawkes Night, and had Christmas and New Year get-togethers. We had the same group of friends at infants school and the early years of juniors, and only really drifted apart as we grew older.
My sister and I became very involved with the swimming club and we saw less and less of each other, although his sister went to the same secondary school as I did. Our parents still remained close and so we did keep in touch to a certain extent. When I was sixteen and my sister fourteen our family moved to the west country, and when we went back to visit Cambridge, our parents would get together. Years later, as an adult, I went back to Cambridge to see cousins, and as I was walking through town I heard someone behind me. I instantly knew it was Richard and spun round. He was amazed to see me, wondering how I had known it was him! It was the way he walked, I’d known the sound of his footsteps, and a little cough, from childhood!
We did see each other again, at his sister’s wedding, and again, very sadly, at his dad and then his mum’s funeral. Tragically, my last “meeting” was at Richard’s own funeral. So, today is June 1st, the day he was born – and I always think of him, and remember those very happy times as Kemo Sabe and Tonto.
Happy birthday, Richard.
Lois Elsden 