My name has seven letters. I know it starts with a 'K' and ends with an 'N'. I know four of the other letters, but 1 letter, the penultimate eludes me. It also eludes my parents.
I was the firstborn to English parents Tim and Sarah in Johannesburg. My mum went into labour on her friend's tennis court. In the elation of my birth, technical matters such as names were overlooked.
Tim and Sarah met on a squash court in Haileybury, Hertfordshire. Tim was a professional badminton player, Sarah a tennis player. They married and emigrated to South Africa.
As a child, I was called Kirsty, but when I started my professional career I wanted a name with a bit more gravitas. So at the age of 22, I sought out my christening name.
I was applying for an internship in Monaco, which required all my official documents to be translated. It was only when I received a call from the translator that I realised my birth certificate reads: Kirst ink spillage n.
