The new school was totally different from my introduction to school life. Here we all sat in little groups; that we were allowed to talk during the lesson as long as the teacher was not talking was ideal. I was soon able to make several friends. Most lessons were more interesting as things were attempted in small groups, all of us helping each other rather than sat in neat rows.

  The only lesson that I was having difficulty with was English. Before I had started at my first school I had a basic reading skill and knew the alphabet of 26 letters in full and was quite able to read the early stage text books without any help. At this school the alphabet was different; there were extra letters and this was confusing to me. The Initial Teaching Alphabet I was now taught had 44. The reading books were all in this new style of writing and I found it almost impossible during my first few weeks to make any sense of any storybook.

  My writing also had to change. At my original school I had become used to the first stages of a script type lettering. Although our written letters were not actually joined up, each letter was formed in this style. Our workbooks had extra fine printed lines to show where the tails to letters should reach and any top parts of the letters like t, k and l should touch. At this new school, letters had to be printed in an upright style and fit between two lines in our workbooks.

Other lessons were far more fun. Sand play, cooking and other interesting events took place on most days. But one event in the early afternoon did not suit me: having to lie on the floor on soft mats shortly after lunch and listen to a story was not to my liking. If I could have sat at a desk and listened it would have been fine, but lying down was difficult for me. I was not the only one; a girl in our class also found this story session rather hard to concentrate on.

If only one of us had caused minor disruptions with our fidgeting the lesson might have been all right: two of us was too much. Both of us were now sent outside for an extra playtime and apart from any other children while the quiet lesson continued. In time the teacher regretted allowing us out for these extra periods alone as it seemed to allow us extra time to plan mischief for later in the day – nothing very major, just jokes and games we could play on our friends. The girl did not act like the other girls I had met, if she had been upset in any way; a boy soon received a thump – her speed and strength was far more than I could ever manage, I had someone who liked to stick up for me and who simply liked acting like a boy rather than a girl.

When it emerged that we both lived in the same road and by taking different routes had not had much contact with each other, our life became much more fun. Within a short time, my mother would collect the girl from her house in the morning and we would walk or run to school along the beach. Most afternoons her mother would collect her as she had an older brother in a nearby junior school.

If we decided to annoy our teacher, it was to see which of us dared to come into school wearing our wellingtons. In dry weather, we were the only two to arrive in wellingtons owing to our walk along the beach and were often missed. It was fun to be picked on by our teacher then being able to complain that she had not complained about the other. At first we were sent out of the room to change but it was soon realised we were doing minor thing like this on purpose. Unless our antics started to disrupt the lesson we were generally ignored.

Having a friend to protect me was wonderful; it was not that I really needed any protection. Having been placed one year back, I was a slight oddity. At the age of almost seven I was a whole year older than the rest of the class, and if you added my height I could easily pass as an eight – or even a nine-year-old. I was teased a little by smaller children who knew I would not be able to fight back. Help came to me from the girl who could settle a few odd matters for me without any chance of either of us getting into trouble. If it did have one advantage, I was the one picked to do little errands or help with things and if I needed any help, there was a willing girl that was easy to pick as my partner.

Art was the best way of spending time at school: an easel with paint and paper and I was happy. My main subject was railway engines. As we had to share the range of coloured paints, I simply wanted to possess the jar of black paint. We were meant to have three different colours and swap over during the lesson. I just took the one jar and only used the other colours when encouraged by the teacher. All railway engines were black, weren’t they?

  The small seaside town gave me more freedom than staying in London. There was the opportunity to get out of the house and explore more of the area. For my mother, living at the seaside meant that if there was any free time that is where we should be. Originally, my mother might not have intended to take a second child out along with me. However, the boy who boarded at the school would have felt quite miserable if I were taken out for a walk and other treats, and he was left indoors. Most of the times that I was taken out, the boy a year younger than myself now came with us. I was a little jealous of having someone else to share my mother’s attention, but I allowed such things to continue without too much protest.

If my playmate had been my own age there would have been more fun, but he was not at the age where my mother could really allow him to go very far. On the beach he tended to stay quite close to my mother when I went and ran off into the distance. There was little harm I could come to; the sea was always either up to the edge of the beach with a nice shallow area to paddle or totally out and somewhere in the far distance. One matter that stopped me from running off in the direction of the sea to find out exactly where it had gone to, was patches of dark oozing mud that you could not only get stuck in, but was difficult to remove from clothes.

Several miles of desolate beach near to where we lived meant I could be allowed freedom without causing annoyance to anyone. A few seagulls might have been disturbed by my running and shouting but they could easily find more quiet areas away from where I wanted to play.

Vast sand dunes provided hours of entertainment. Unlike the sand by the seashore that could be used for building things, even after heavy rain the dunes seemed to remain dry. My mother could find a nice sheltered spot and sit down for a rest; the pair of us could then play happily for a short while. My boredom normally ended such a sit down, and a different location further up the beach and a second rest could be made. My mother was quite capable of long walks along the sand; I could have easily managed such distances as well, but having the younger boy with us meant that our walks often needed to end earlier than both of us would have liked.

Nearer the town, the beach tended to get more crowded. The reason for going to this part of the town was to get sweets or visit the local café for a snack; things that were totally lacking at our remote area of the beach. The best treat for me was a small bar of chocolate and a bottle of ginger beer. I was often encouraged to share the chocolate. Ginger beer was not a taste that the other boy enjoyed, so to keep him happy my mother normally purchased a carton of orange squash or a small bottle of pop. I was quite happy; the bottle of ginger beer was bigger than either of the drinks he was ever given. To most boys of six, ginger beer might not normally have been their first choice, but to me this drink had some flavour.

  A second treat was to be each allowed a donkey ride and I soon advanced to riding one of the two ponies that the man possessed, but still firmly under his control. On a trip out to our remote part of the beach, we came across a group of young girls with their ponies. They had set up in slight unofficial competition to the man with the donkeys, but they were at a far enough distance not to be noticed or to have any real impact on his trade as few people came to this end of the beach. As the area was more deserted, the girls were more willing to walk and run with the ponies during the ride, and for longer distances. At some point a decision would be made to make the turn and return to the starting point. The return trip was always at a run and if it was seen that you were capable of staying on, then quite a speed was possible.

On the days that we did go out, whilst a donkey ride was often given to the younger boy, I normally refused a pony ride at this point. Later on under duress I managed to get my mother to our end of the beach where the girls might be with their ponies. My mother was never asked how old I was. In time I soon progressed from one of the smaller ponies to the largest of the group. It was possible to get a fast pace in both directions; the ride might have ended sooner, but often I was allowed a second lap to give the ride good value in time and distance. On the final trip back I was often allowed full control of the pony.

Once it was made sure that I had the reins gathered up, the lead rein would be unclipped and the pony released to head back to the main group in the far distance. To the girls my height,  signs of my second teeth might have given them the impression I was about eight. If they had realised I was only six I bet the rides would have been at a far more leisurely and controlled pace. Although I never actually managed to fall off, my light weight meant that I needed to cling on tightly to avoid being thrown off at the fast speed.

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Continued

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