Tilly - the youngest member of my family.

So yesterday I introduced Gene to the youngest member of my family – Tilly.

Tilly is 3 years old and is the daughter of my cousin, Sophie. This actually makes Tilly my second cousin which sounds less important than a first cousin so I just say she’s my niece and that gives her the status she deserves.

Anyway, Tilly met Gene yesterday and I think it’s fair to say they got on famously.

At first Tilly approached Gene with caution. I think it was the point at which I said “Gene this is Tilly, Tilly this is Gene” that Tilly did a double take in my direction and hesitated at the prospect of becoming friends with a vehicle, not sure what the implications might be.

But she decided to take it in her stride and sat down on the edge of the seat nearest the sink. Maybe there was an underlying theory as to why she sat next to the sink; she might have been thinking that a quick exit down the plug hole might be an alternative way out if Gene actually did come to life.

Tilly soon got comfy and it wasn’t long before a smile began to creep across her face as I did a tour of Gene involving a tiger hat, a cat mask and a silly pair of pink and white striped sunglasses (I’m a bit of a magpie at festivals and take advantage of early morning finds of forgotten accessories).

It wasn’t long before Tilly’s puzzled face looked up and she asked why there were windows on the seats and a squashed mattress. She had spotted the pop top (of the campervan)…

Within minutes the pop top had popped, the music was on, squash had been poured and Tilly was happily sitting upstairs swaying to Noah and the Whale and looking out of the windows in wonder at how high up she was.

Tilly having fun in my campervan

The next couple of hours were spent pretending it was morning and opening the curtains and pretending it was evening and shutting the curtains. It’s amazing how little it takes to keep a 3 year old amused. She then turned to me and began a very civilised conversation remarking: “Well Jessie I haven’t seen you for years, in fact five. How on earth are you?”. We read books including Sam the Vole and a book about Dave the cat who’s so fat he gets stuck in the cat flap and has to be fed beans by the bugs so he can fart his way free.

After a wee (toilet, not a little) break we were back in the van- this time with Sophie only the tables had turned and now Tilly announced she was Mum. Sophie and I were quickly ordered to speak in very high voices and I was suddenly five years old and Soph was two. When asked what were we called Tilly turned to the nearest postcard blue-tacked to the cupboard door which was a Martin Parr picture of two children at the seaside and said “Beach”. Soph turned to me expecting an equally obscure name to be conjured up but Tilly said my name was Jessie. I was a bit disappointed as I was hoping to be called something like Seaweed or Pebble.

So Beach and I spent time being fed imaginary food from the kettle, plates and cups. I was particularly impressed when we were asked to wash our hands and the lantern was handed to me as a soap dispenser.

We had beans, which were made from the gear stick, and milk which came from the steering wheel.

We were having so much fun that before long it was nearly dinnertime for Mum (aka Tilly), so Beach (aka Sophie) gave a five minute warning that reality was soon to return. The disappointment came quickly to Mum but she admiringly held it together long enough to say she didn’t want to be Mummy anymore and burst into tears saying “if we leave here then I’m going to have to cry. I want to stay in here forever and ever”. Soph and I reassured her that she could visit Gene again and that Gene also needed to have a rest so now was a good time for us all to go inside and eat some delicious shepherd’s pie that my Mum had made.

It was a great afternoon of inventive imaginary nonsense and I came away really believing that Gene enjoyed herself too.