Cambridge Coincidences Collection

In London, in 1964 or thereabouts, I met a young Belgian student. Leen’s lodgings backed on to the offices of the advertising agency where I first found work on leaving school, and that gave me my first foothold in a career that was to take me first to Australia, and ultimately to Fiji, where I now live. About four years ago, Leen chanced upon my name on the net, and we regained contact after more than 40 years. We now exchange emails on a daily basis. The other day I sent her a photograph of a bedroom in my home here in Suva. In one corner is an old English bookcase, recently acquired, on which I’ve arranged a reproduction ‘antique’ toy – a combined horse and tricycle – and a genuinely old French clock that sat on my bedroom mantelpiece throughout my childhood in London. The horse is positioned on the left, and the clock on the right. Leen was astonished, and sent me by return a photograph of a near identical set-up in a small room in her attic in Belgium. She too has an ‘antique’ toy horse. Hers is a rocking horse. And to the right of it, minus its case, is the brass mechanism of an old clock.

Dave Allen is an extremely common name for British baby boomers, especially engineers. Mis-directed emails and multiple Dave Allens' in the same office is commonplace, but two stories stand out for me. The first was house hunting in Aberdeen; talking to the male owner in the kitchen and noticed a video of thge most famous Dave Allen - The Irish Comedian - on his fridge. The house owners name of course was also Dave Allen, which made three. On another occasion, we called in to see some friends who had moved into a new home in Surrey in the UK. Shortly after we left, they received a call asking for Dave Allen. They were a bit mystified as to how the caller could have known but passed on our home contact number anyway. The previous owner of the property was another Dave Allen, who had apparantly run up a credit card debt. It took many months and many threats to convince the debt collection agency that they were now pursuing the wrong man. These experience must be even more common for middle aged engineers called Steve Williams, but they haven't had a globally famous Irish comedian highjack name.

I am 20 years old, and was born and raised in Cambridge, Massachusetts, in the USA. When I was young I wanted to be an actress, and at the age of 8 enrolled in a local youth theater group that, conveniently, held rehearsals in the auditorium of my school. The group was comprised of about 30 kids, all from different parts of the greater Boston area. During the 2 years I was in the theater group, my parents, unimpressed with the academic level of the public school I was enrolled in at the time, started looking into private schools around our area. A small group of girls in my theater group (who I idolized- they were the oldest and immensely talented), were all students at one of the schools my parents were most interested in, and after hearing great things about the school from their parents, my parents and I were enthusiastic about my going to visit and taking the exams to try and get in. I did, and entered 6th grade when my theater group of idols started in 8th. As 8th grade is the final grade before high school in the US, we only shared the same campus for a year before they graduated (much to my disappointment).

At a party in London, which was my mates work do, so nothing to do with me. Got talking to a guy etc... finally mentioned where he lives. Oh in Willesden Green, Where? What Road? Kings road. NO WAY! What number? no 63. I now go all cold and say ... you bought from a Mr and Mrs O'Neill didn't you?" now it is his turn to go quiet... How do you know that ? Its my Mum and Dad. Go Figure!