In the summer of 1951 Ronnie had enjoyed an illicit day trip with the voluptuous eighteen-year-old Thelma when he was on leave from his National Service. She had brought a camera and he had taken her photo leaning against the seafront railings and smiling seductively. She had been wearing her new Terylene pleated skirt and had just paid one shilling and ninepence for a pair of Twinco sunglasses.

As she smoked her Capstan cigarette she had felt like a film star.

Back in the staff-room Lily and Anne were discussing projects for the summer term when John walked in carrying his cane and a long leather strap.

‘I thought it worth mentioning our policy regarding discipline,’ he said. ‘If anyone misbehaves, then obviously I would expect you to deal with it immediately and you may send a child to me for punishment.’ He held up the cane. ‘This is for six of the best, usually for fighting, bullying, swearing and smoking. However, I try to keep that to a minimum and use this instead. It’s an old barber’s strop and ideal for lashing an outstretched hand.’

Lily pursed her lips and remained silent.

Anne looked concerned. ‘I would hope there would be no need for that, Mr Pruett, as I intend to provide a relevant curriculum that excites the children and keeps them interested. That has worked so far on my previous teaching practices.’

Well said, thought Lily.

John sat back a little perplexed, and unsure if there was a hint of implicit criticism.

Anne saw his reaction. ‘And as this is such a lovely school, I can’t foresee a problem.’

John seemed sufficiently placated. ‘Well, you will appreciate it has to be done or they’ll think there’s no discipline – and, come to think of it, it didn’t do me any harm.’

Afternoon school went well for Lily and Anne, though it was clear they were unimpressed by John’s old-fashioned style of teaching. Lily kept a professional silence.

During his physical training lesson his pupils stood in pairs throwing a beanbag to each other across the hall in a desultory fashion. Likewise, his craft lesson comprised the girls making identical peg bags while the boys made long cylinders from thick cardboard for storing spills. It was uninspiring.

In contrast, at the end of the day the children sat in rapt silence during Anne’s story time. She read from her copy of Beatrix Potter’s The Tale of Peter Rabbit and brought the story of the mischievous and disobedient Peter to life. The children held their breath when he was chased by Mr McGregor and sighed with relief when his mother finally put him to bed with a dose of camomile tea.