I dismissed the idea at first. He’d think it childish, and there would be plenty of food at the party anyway. But then I had an idea. We could turn it into a joke, decorating the biscuits with pictures of boats and . . . pirates, perhaps. Yes, pirate-themed biscuits. Just a bit of fun. And Jimmy would enjoy it, too.

We made gingerbread biscuits, which gave a good flat surface for the icing, and Mrs D suggested that I should draw the images to size beforehand to create a template, as she called it. I drew a boat – modelled on the Mary Jane – a pair of crossed oars, a skull and crossbones, a pirate’s face with a bandana, and a parrot. Jimmy wanted one of a dragon, too, to continue the lake theme, and went on about it so much that I gave in, deciding to go with the crocodile shape, as the more traditional dragon was more complicated. After the dough shapes were cut out and baking in the oven, Mrs D made me practise with the icing bag until the outlines looked like they were supposed to.

An hour later, and with only three wasted (though not wasted, as we ate them there and then), we had fifteen perfectly iced biscuits laid out to dry in the pantry. We made up a box and covered it with stripy coloured paper that Mrs D found in the bottom of a drawer, and tied it with a piece of white bias binding, as we hadn’t any ribbon. The gift looked better than I could ever have hoped.

There were ten of us altogether, including Kit: me and Jimmy, Rob and the other boys from the village, Ashley, Brian and Peter, and three posh friends from his boarding school, who seemed to be so much older and more sophisticated than the rest of us. I was the only girl, which felt strange at first – where were the twins? I supposed they must be away on one of their holidays, or at Pony Club camp. But it also made me feel rather special.

We all arrived at about the same time and went into the drawing room. Kit opened each parcel – they contained boyish things like pens and scarves – said a cursory thank you and got on with the next one, so you couldn’t tell whether he was pleased or not.

By the time it came to our little box I was in a fever of embarrassment. How stupid I’d been to imagine Kit would appreciate home-made biscuits! How humiliating it would be when he opened them. But to my surprise, he actually showed a little more interest than he had in the other gifts; and his mother, watching over his shoulder, commented that the decoration was very artistic. She asked whether they might put them out on a plate to serve them for tea and, of course, we agreed. Jimmy looked especially pleased.