Tuesday, 23 June 2009


All the boys called me ‘spunky biscuit’ after that party. This soon got truncated to just ‘biscuit’ and then became ‘cookie’. My mother, unaware of the name’s salty origin, took to calling me ‘cookie’ after Jez and Randolph joined us on a camping trip in the New Forest.
‘Cookie!’ she’d shout up the stairs when dinner was ready.
‘Come and get it!’
Downstairs, I would protest,
‘Mum, can’t you just call me David?’
‘Oh Cookie, you are silly.’

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