When one becomes 11, one feels very grown up. The last term of primary school is ahead; mentally, one is beginning to move on.
It’s not suitable to live like this any more.
Years of yearning may come to pass- a bedroom apart, no longer shared with a younger sister. In the world of semi urban, semi detached households, that means moving to the spare room to displace the laundry and the clutter.
The room has a built in wardrobe, and a bed that only fits one way, so one might think there wouldn’t be much change. There is a need for measuring, and wondering and negotiating.
Then, shopping. Also, assembling.
Eventually, the discovery that the tiny room can take a table, a swivel chair, a bedside table, a bookcase, a bin, some pictures, a hangy thing for pens and pencils and, most importantly, a noticeboard. Where else is a girl to hang the gift vouchers she forgets to bring with her?
Of course, it should be remembered that the girl with a birthday wasn’t the only one to get her own space this week. As a direct result, all the soft toys got the bottom bunk all to themselves…