I attended the same senior school as Marion Ecob-Prince. She and her brother were born in the same week as me, in the same nursing home and we were all involved in a baby mix-up.
At feeding time a handsome, voluptuous baby was introduced to my mother – who turned out to be Marion. Marion’s mother, Anne, was caring for her twin brother, and was therefore unaware that she had been given a rather less fortunate monster. Maternal instincts overrode my mother’s admiration for Marion, and she handed her over to the nearest nurse and hurried to see to whom I was given.
The matron was finally able to calm my distraught mother, but my siblings sometimes remarked that school reports might have been rather more glowing if she had hung up on Marion.
