If I remember correctly, which is very unlikely, she'd gouged her eagle-eyes from a Special Boat Service Action Man (GI Joe) that she'd been carrying on with on the side. Now most Sindys were middle class housewives in waiting but not mine. Oh no. Mine was a white trash council house gold digger who with her eagle-eyes could spot a slut-whore outfit up to a thousand feet away across a crowded toy shop. Worse still was that whenever a neighbourhood Barbie invited her around for afternoon tea and 'homemaking' she'd invariably stuff her pockets with whatever glittery accessories she could lay her plastic hands on. I still carry the emotional scar from the time she tried to drive off in Caroline Bamford's pink convertible as her Barbie waved politely from the window. You definitely couldn't trust her anywhere near a Ken doll; turn your back for just two minutes and she'd have his trousers down around his ankles, would straddle him and would be furiously grinding her anatomically. But as it was post ww2 he had the pick. As there was a shortage of men I suppose.My passion was fishing and I couldn't wait to spend my time by the river that was only a short bike ride away.So my mother packed my lunch and a bottle of orange squash, reminding me to be home before 6pm. And off I went.As it was summer the banks of the river were very overgrown but I new the spot I wanted. As I approached I saw that the undergrowth had been troden down. I made my way and there was an old man (well old to me, maybe as old as my father) sitting on a stool fishing.I was as surprised to see him as he me.But he was kind and said that we could both fish the same spot if I wanted to. I had never had a fishing friend so I agreed, and started to get my stuff together. He said his name was Eric I introduced myself as Peter .We were fishing and doing quite well, when I realized I was in need of some hooks.Eric said I have some in my bag over there help yourself, so I got his bag and looked in..
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