Friday 5th June 1988
Last day at school today. Very last day. Next year I start high school. I was very upset about leaving primary school. I love it there and I’ll really miss it, but, but never mind!
Friday 29th July 1988
Stayed at grandads until 1:00pm then came home and watched Hickstead on TV. Flicka and I came in 3rd. I have had Flicka for 2 real years now and although it is babyish to have a pretend horse, I love her. We are jumping in the showjumping Derby on Sunday. [OOH, I WONDER WHAT WILL HAPPEN?!]
O.K. Day. I rode one of my other horses (Pretend) [Glad you clarified that, younger Amber, otherwise your mystery diary readers would’ve thought this was all totes real…] Poetry in he speed Darby. I got about 12 faults. Poetry is a grey Arab mare. There is a bungalow for sale in [another street in our town] and tomorrow we are going to view it. Its really nice, I hope we buy it.
Sunday 31st July
Viewed the house today. It was lovely. We still don’t know whether or not to buy it. Rode Flicka in the Hickstead Jumping Darby and miraculously won! We had the only clear round.
Monday 1st August 1988
Last night my mum and dad heard that there are some plots for sale in a field behind [their house]. There will be a large housing scheme built with nearly 30 houses. Mum and dad are interested and a man came over at about 9:30pm to discuss it with them [What’s the obsession with the time, Amber?!]] It turns out that they have put their names down for a plot, so its between buying the house we looked at yesterday or a plot. I want the house as the site where the plotts are is far away from all my friends and school. Well, that’s me reached the end of this diary. Tomorrow’s entry is in the pink diary so bye for now.
Amber Louise McNaught
And that was that. “The pink diary” has, unfortunately, been missing for as long as I can remember, so if you were hoping to know how me and Flicka got on at next year’s Hickstead Derby, sorry to disappoint. [SPOILER: WE TOTALLY WON.] On that: these are the imaginary horses I wrote about in this post, and, as you can see, I took this imaginary life of mine so incredibly seriously that I couldn’t just let myself get clear rounds every single time – because that would be totally unrealistic, wouldn’t it? No, far more believable for my 12-year-old self to pick up a few time faults here, and a couple of regular faults there before – miraculously! – riding to victory, with the only clear round! THAT’S not unrealistic AT ALL, is it?
Deep thoughts on my last day at school, meanwhile: it gets a cursory “I’ll miss it”, but I don’t really sound THAT bothered, all things considered. I was actually quite surprised to read that I was upset to leave primary school, because as you’ve probably gathered from the previous entries from this diary, I didn’t exactly have a great time of it in my final year – to the extent that my parents actually wanted to enrol me in a high school several miles away, where I’d have no chance of bumping into my old enemies, Regina and Tanya. I, however, talked them out of it: I was terrified of being bullied again by Regina, but I was even more terrified of having to go to a school where I wouldn’t know anyone at all: better the devil you know, I guess.
And what happened to me at high school, I hear you ask? Well, that’s another diary, for another day…