My imaginary friend

I know a lot of children have imaginary friends. I have wondered if they had these friends for the same reason as I did. I am an only child and wanted some company. I had a few dolls and cuddly toys but they were not enough, I needed a human type friend who could be there whenever I needed her. I cannot remember how old I was when she arrived in my world but I was probably about three or four. Her name was Lucy. We had lots of fun playing with the toys and we especially enjoyed playing school together. She was very clever and knew all the answers and I was the teacher.

She was a part of my every day. She did not come to school with me but as soon as I got home and was on my own which was often, she would appear. I cannot remember what she looked like or even if I knew then but she was always smiling and nothing phased her.

Whereas I was fearful most of the time at home. You see I never knew when I would suddenly get into trouble. Sometimes I would do naughty things. I was a child.

The trouble was, we lived in a church house. At that time, ministers like my dad were given a free church house to live in with their family. The church had to fully furnish it. In fact, the minister only needed to buy food, everything else like crockery, cutlery, linen, etc was provided. That sounds great but these old houses were notoriously known for having ancient furniture and similarly worn out household items and appliances. But my parents and the other ministers never complained. They were so grateful for what they were given as a minister's salary was minimal and we were fortunate to have a roof over our heads. Parishioners would often give us food boxes or hand me down clothes as they knew we had very little.

But looking after a church house and its contents that was not ours came with a great responsibility for my parents. The problem was they had a young daughter who although generally well-behaved was a child who wanted to have childhood type fun. One of my favourite activities and I still think of it with a smile on my face, was jumping on the bed.

Lucy and I had the best time bouncing up and down as high as we could go or round and round the mattress. It was great care-free fun until the giggles and laughter were drowned out by the thunderous crash as the ancient wooden bed gave way turning into a slide as one end angled into the wooden floor. It was so loud, it seemed that the house almost shook.

I was a lightweight three to seven year old so I blamed the old bed for breaking but I always got the hiding. I could not understand why my dad would be so angry with me. Even with his twisted mouth spitting and shouting loudly at me, he could still easily put the bed back into its brackets. So why did he have to spoil my game and make me cry. Lucy never got into trouble and we were partners in this crime.

After a while, I came up with a cunning plan. In my young mind, my dad did not like me but he obviously liked Lucy as he never hit her. Everyone knew about Lucy as I talked about her all of the time and I would also share my food with her sometimes. Although she never ate much my dog certainly liked being under the table at mealtimes. I explained my plan to Lucy and she was okay with it because she was my friend. She was always sad when I got a hiding.

The next time I jumped on the bed I had even more fun as I knew I would not be hit if the inevitable happened because Lucy would take the blame. I was wrong. I think I caused him to be even more angry as he said I was lying. But did he not realise Lucy did not mind taking the blame and giving me a night off from a hiding.

I remember that particularly vicious hiding caused me to stop jumping on the bed. I realised Lucy could not save me, no-one could. I would have to save myself. And that is what I have been doing since that day to this.