It’s my father’s birthday, though sadly, he is with us – those of us who loved him – only in spirit. His birthday serves to remind me that he’s no longer here and I am saddened; and yet, I cannot be too down at heart because today is also my old school friend’s birthday – she is six months younger than me (she must cherish those six months). We have known each other since we were fourteen, when I arrived from Australia and she moved down from North Devon – we were both alien novelties at our new school in Teignmouth, just three miles from where I live now.

Happy birthday Sally! My friend is another Sally. I suppose it’s funny that I think the name sounds pretty on her but not on me. I wonder if any of the children from her primary school days used to sing, “Sally go round the sun, Sally go round the moon, Sally go round the chimney pots on a Sunday afternoon” for her benefit? (And I was so painfully shy – honestly.) Maybe the chanting of the rhyme was more an Australian thing. It didn’t happen in England. The English thing was for older people to suddenly burst into song singing the much loved (by many – so many!) Gracie Field classic – “Sally, Sally, pride of our alley, You’re more than the whole world to me…” I know it was meant as a kind of compliment but, oh how I hated that song. Do you know I can’t remember when last anyone sang that to me… I’d like to say that I feel differently about that charming old song now, but I can’t – I still hate it!

The other reason why this is a special day for me is because it’s my sixteenth wedding anniversary. I thought it was seventeen years but Chris assures me it’s only sixteen (he counted on his fingers – six of them twice.) Now in general, people do not send Chris and me anniversary cards or well wishes for being married so long – most people forgot after the first year. However, this year my friend Sally sent us a lovely card depicting two hedgehogs drinking champagne – very cute (I can be a bit prickly sometimes)- and very English, which is a tad peculiar considering she lives in Cyprus (maybe they have special card shops for English folk there); and another old friend, Roland, (once boyfriend, now just friends) sent an email wishing us a happy anniversary.

Chris always remembers our anniversary, usually with vases of primroses that he has collected in the early hours while I have sleeping, but today it was bluebells because the primroses came and went before even the arrival of Primrose Day (the nineteenth of April – and, coincidentally, my maternal grandparents’ wedding date). Most of this morning’s floral offerings had been spirited away from the garden of the property next door, which remains empty almost exactly a year after the sudden death of Hilda – her family still cannot bear to part with the house and garden she loved so much. Hilda had the prettiest eyes, the colour of bluebells…

How odd – nobody could have realised it – but it has been a very special anniversary.