Sunday afternoons. The Mid Seventies. Frinton On Sea. Not the greatest way to spend a childhood. No video games, no box sets, no distraction from the grey rain and mind blowing bad taste wallpaper that surrounded me. Just me, my sis and a rented TV. Which it turns out was all I needed. Those grainy black and white or glorious technicolour cinemascope cinematic distractions saved me. And today as we say farewell to one of the stars of those Sunday afternoons, the captivating beauty and sassy style icon that was Lauren Bacall I’m grateful for a childhood before games on thrones or endless Simpsons re-runs. I didn’t need an invite to come dine with me or the desire to play heartless hammering landlords, I had a world of glamour, intrigue, style and grace. I had Bacall. And Bogart and Mills and Munroe and Olivier and Hepburn and Streisand and Howard and Gable and Day and Welles and Douglas and Perkins and Peck and Leigh and Swanson and Davis and O’Toole and Guinness and Kerr. And they in turn had my childhood imagination. And now, although the dressing up box and the dodgy accents and strange ‘playing in the shed’ re-imaginings are long gone, they still have my heart. So rest in peace Ms Bacall. Your were one of my first perfect distractions. Here’s to many more Sunday afternoons fuelled with the imagination you gave me.