I must have started at Desford School when I was approaching 5 years but the event isn't very clear, wrote Jack Hill, but I do recall the Head Mistress of the infants, a Miss Smith. I remember her as a martinet {Shades of later schooling} but initially I was looked after by Beth Shawcroft the junior teacher who happened to be boarding with the Hill Family.

This meant that I felt at home immediately and was soon recruited into the job of monitor to hand out the slate trays, which had sand on them for creating numbers and letters. The school was planned on simple lines with a large top glazed entrance hall and two classrooms flanking it. They both had sliding glazed walls but I seldom saw these opened. Thus the school was very light and airy.

When I moved in to Miss Smith's class I still retained the job of monitor, which implied that I showed some degree of responsibility. However I did have lapses when my mother's influence, oh and Jesus' as well { for I was taught that he was always present looking over my shoulder and wanting me to be a good boy, ugh.]

For example I remember sitting behind a lad named Burns from the Mill and we were listening to a story being read by Miss Smith. On impulse I leaned forward and blew at the hair on his neck. Immediately he leaped up and shouted please miss etc, etc.

I was hauled out and asked if I had done such a heinous act. My red face made it obvious and so first of all I was told that my mother would be ashamed of me and then that I must stand by her high chair for the rest of the session. Talk about being humiliated!

I recall having a slight argument with Miss Smith during Friday afternoon exercises in the main hall. We were told to stand at attention with our feet spread at 45 degrees. Now I was very conscious of my big feet and my tendency to walk with feet splayed out, so to be told to stand like this was most worrying and I said so. I seem to recall that I was told in no uncertain terms that I would do as I was told. Mother heard of the incident via Beth Shawcroft.

At the age of seven, we children were moved into the junior school which was a much older building with the usual classrooms leading from narrow corridors. I found that I was quite adept at art and enjoyed painting with watercolours. I can see us with pussy willows and leaves in the back room next door to the Doctor's spinney, all engrossed in capturing the moment.

Once, when we had a temporary teacher, I remember the indignity of being rapped on the knuckles with a wooden ruler. I can't remember the reason but again as a monitor I was humiliated. My life was hell with being shy and having a tendency to blush at the slightest pretext. It also meant that my thoughts were immediately visible to one and all.

Headmasters and teachers changed quite often but I recall the delight I found with Miss Winters who supervised our singing lessons. These periods were always jolly affairs with songs such as 'The fox in his den, oh! We also rehearsed the hymns for the next week's assembly.

The last master I knew was named Morris and I think I loved him for he was so gentle. He changed the whole philosophy of the school and we even had a Christmas party in my last year.

I had great problems with the girls, many of whom seemed to be inordinately interested in me. For example Eileen Sutton who lived just down the road from the Gables. There would be cries of Eileen Sutton loves you and I would cringe. Hence for some time I went to school via the fields in Manor Road to avoid running the gauntlet.

Then there was Betty Faulknell who would persist in sitting next to me in class and pressing up close. I remember on one occasion we were reading a play out in front of the class and I was the meteorological Inspector. Gulp, but I managed to pronounce it. She of course was cast as my wife.

At that Christmas party, my true love Christine Priestnall, who was born on the same day as me, wore a long, white dress and as I had never seen a young girl in a long dress I was bowled over. Trouble was that I couldn't spell out my love and so pined for ages and of course hated anyone to whom she spoke or smiled.