The Other Jessie

Jessie sat in the back seat of the car cuddling her doll Maisey, holding her hot pink pen poised above her scrap-paper notebook.

"I'm going to write a story," she said.  "It's called 'The Little Girl Called Jessie.'  And it goes like this.

"Once upon a time there was a little girl called Jessie.  She was four years old.  And she had a Mum called [my name] and a Dad called [Mr de Elba's name.] And she lived at [our address.]  And she went to kindy.  And she had some dreadful brothers.  And she also had a little baby called Maisey.  Jessie and Maisey had matching pyjamas.  They ..."

"Back up a bit," I said.  "What sort of brothers did she have?"

A big pause.  Then Jessie said, "Awful."

Silence in the car.

"Actually," she admitted, "it was a different Jessie.  Not me."