Triang Hornby

Vivien Jones

The thing was I didn't want another doll episode. Grandma's sly favouritism towards my older sister still rankled. It's true she kept her socks clean for longer and she didn't lose her hair ribbons, but it still wasn't fair. Two dolls; one more beautifully clothed, more curly haired than the other. One dressed in white silk, the other in yellow cotton. One with white leather boots with tiny studs, the other in knitted bootees. One in glitter wrapping, the other in Father Christmas paper. If we had the same thing it was bound to happen again. So I thought of something different. Grandma had already asked for our Christmas-lists.

My friend, my rich friend, Jessica had a brother called Edward and Edward had a train set that ran all around his bedroom (they had one each of course) and out into the landing upstairs. It was electric and had points that could send either train one of several different ways round the loops of track that went under chairs and the desk that he did his homework on. Though I went to play with Jessica (she had a dressing-up box with her mother's old, pale party dresses in it that smelt faintly of powder and perfume, with real sequins and hidden zips) I always ended up watching Edward and his train set. If he was in a good mood he let me make an announcement through cupped hands. ... (continues)