I fitted into my family in the same way I fitted into society. I didn’t. My father was a minister and my mother one of the original Quiz Kids. My “outside world” expected me to be either a goody two shoes or a younger example of my mother and brilliant elder brother. I was neither of these things. I was an exuberant, easily bored child who looked forward to school just to have company, to skip rope or play hopscotch. We lived at the end of town where the church and grounds occupied the entire block. The church was on a busy road (in a small country town this doesn’t mean a lot), but our house was at the rear of the church and bordered by parkland and the river on two sides. There were no children nearby with whom to play except the Catholic children who lived opposite the church, but for some reason they were unsuitable companions.

I had learnt that the friends of my choice were not to be brought home. When I was five I took Raymond Fardon home. He had asked me to marry him and, as I was giving this serious consideration, I felt I should take him home to meet my parents. That was a real disaster as he was given short shrift and sent home, never to darken our door again. He then totally ignored me and took up with another girl whose parents were no doubt more accommodating.

My next failure was when the Tattersall girl came to town. Her father owned Tattersall’s Hotels all down the eastern seaboard. They would spend three to six months in each town overseeing the local hotel operation. I immediately clicked with Rhonda. We were inseparable at school and walked home together as the hotel was on my route. I stayed at the hotel with her a little too long one afternoon and was forbidden to go there again. When I attempted to bring her to our house my mother always had an alternative arrangement and Rhonda left town before a time could be found.

My mother turned yellow one day and the doctor diagnosed her as contagious.  My brother and I were quarantined and not permitted to attend school so that we wouldn’t pass on this dreadful disease. My brother’s spirits soared as he could continue reading the book he’d started and then start another and another. My heart sank. No-one to play with. How was I going to cope? It would be the same as our Christmas holidays at the beach where the other members of my family would lie in bed all morning reading their books and eating their chocolates whilst I annoyed them all, agitating to go to the beach. Even threatening to hang myself moved no-one from their books except my brother. He stirred out of bed as he wanted to watch. It only gave him something to crow about when I failed in my attempt. I had tied a slip knot in my noose.

How was I going to survive this enforced isolation? Then it came to me. My father had given a children’s address in church about the leper and Jesus. I could be the leper! I raced up to the church and hid behind one of the fir trees. Whenever anyone approached I would jump out from behind the tree yelling and waving my arms around wildly “Stay away! I’m unclean! I’m a leper and my mother is yellow. Beware! Don’t come near me or you’ll turn yellow too.” Most people just ignored me but I got a huge thrill when some crossed to the other side of the road. My new game kept me happily occupied for a day until Dad, informed of my activities, issued a severe reprimand. I was forbidden to continue with this pursuit. Luckily the Department of Education decided that quarantine for family members of someone with hepatitis A was not necessary and we returned to school the next day.

My game then well and truly backfired on me as none of my friends would let me near them just in case I “really was a leper”.

Written 1st person adult voice in past tense. For me much of the emotion from that written in the child’s voice is lost however there is a lot more in this version.