When I was seven years old, my mother took a little part-time job in the mornings. Therefore, during the school holidays, she had to find someone to look after me.
She came up with Mrs Darlington, a widow who lived a few houses down our street. I liked her immensely – she was always friendly to me and Mum when we were out and about, and quite often would disappear inside her house and bring out either a bag of sweets or a bit of cake for me.