friends

Friends tended fall into one of several categories. The best true friends were the other children that lived a few doors away. Sure we would “fall out” occasionally over some small unimportant issue but there was a sort of loyalty and protectiveness with them, more like family. If I ever had a fall out with one, it would leave a hollow feeling, like I had lost something valuable, which indeed I had temporarily. So differences would soon be overcome and friendships re-forged in short time.

There were school friends, other children that you had forged a special bond with. Some of those you never saw outside of school but a few special ones would call around when we got older. Then there was what you might describe as “enforced” friends, those that were introduced by our parents – perhaps children of their friends or acquaintances who weren’t really our friends at all. Friends are more than acquaintances, they are people you have a special bond or affinity with – people you like to be with.

My closest neighbourhood friends, who I will talk about frequently, were Barry and Shirley B. (surname withheld). We lived in the end house of one block of five and they moved into the house at the other end when I was about three or four years old. They would be my closest friends throughout most of my childhood. My sister, also called Shirley, would complete the gang of four. Shirley B. was my age and Barry B. and my sister were both about three years older. Our four parents all got on well together too and sometimes we would have family get-togethers. Barry was a loveable rogue with a good imagination and not frightened of much. Being three years older than me, he was the closest I had of a big brother but without the dominating attitude that older brothers often have to their siblings. We rarely disagreed and I don’t ever remember him hurting or fighting me. He would lead me into all sorts of adventures and games that I would never have experienced without him. He was generous too, always allowing me to play with his toys and games that seemed so much more exciting than my own.

His sister Shirley was pretty and I always enjoyed being in her company too. She had an air of aloofness at times that both frustrated and attracted me. There was another family in the opposite block of five houses who were there before the B’s arrived. The oldest girl was my age and called Susan. She had two younger sisters, Jeannie and Christine. At the age of about four, she had agreed to be my girlfriend and marry me when we were old enough. When Shirley B. arrived shortly after, I was smitten and wanted to marry her instead. I dutifully informed Susan that I thought Shirley was prettier and was going to marry her instead. Susan who was actually just as pretty wasn’t too cut up about it and we all got on well as friends.

A few years later Brian, a year younger than me, arrived with his mum and dad. He was a highly-strung boy. He had pulled a pan of boiling jam onto his arm when very young which had left a terrible, big, swirly scar. I think after that event and being an only child, his mother was rather over-protective which he resented as she often restricted his activities. Brian was OK in small doses and I feel guilty that we sometimes tried to get away before he could find us and latch onto us. He would start out playing fine but tended to want his own way and throw tantrums. He loved to play war games and soldiers and his ambition was to be one when he grew up. That became a terrible reality. He joined the army but died tragically in a helicopter crash aged 19.

My other close friends were from school and didn’t feature much until I was in my early teens. My best schoolmate was Colin. You’ll hear about my adventures with him later. For now life will revolve around my neighbourhood pals.