For the next half-hour the children toiled laboriously over their attempts at copperplate writing. They all knew to take extra care. Pushed in the wrong direction, the nib would spray tiny spots of ink over their work, so they wrote a single word very carefully and then dipped the pen in the inkwell once again. Using blotting paper was fun. After pressing it on the damp ink, the writing appeared reversed. Mr Pruett told them if they held it up in front of a mirror they could read it again the right way round. Sadly, there were no mirrors.

During the few minutes before morning playtime there was time for a few more demanding mental arithmetic problems. The various units of imperial measures were chanted repeatedly. ‘Sixteen ounces in a pound,’ they chorused, ‘twenty-two yards in a chain, eight furlongs in a mile,’ and so on. Finally John collected his cup of tea and went out on the playground to supervise playtime.

In the staff-room Vera had prepared a pot of tea. News of the end of tea rationing at the start of October had been well received and meant unlimited ‘cuppas’ for the first time in twelve years. Major Gwilym Lloyd George, the Minister of Food, had announced an improvement in supplies of tea since the end of the war. However, rationing would continue for sweets, eggs, butter and sugar.

Vera settled down to read her Woman & Home magazine. It had been a shilling well spent and came complete with articles on sewing, embroidery, knitting and crochet. There were exciting transfers between the middle pages on the theme of fairies and she wondered how she might use them. Vera also wondered why Lily had not arrived for her morning beverage.

Lily gave Dave and Malcolm a large sheet of paper, a pencil and some coloured crayons.

‘Now, boys, I want you to draw something interesting you have done today … and that doesn’t include smoking,’ she added, resisting a smile.

Dave looked forlorn. He was hopeless at drawing, whereas Malcolm was thrilled. He loved art and the detail in his sketches was always a joy to behold.

‘I’ll be back at the end of playtime,’ said Lily and walked out.

‘Bloody ’ell,’ muttered Dave.

‘Hooray!’ said Malcolm, picking up his pencil with a smile. He knew exactly what to draw. That morning, high in one of the tallest trees near Mrs Uppington’s house, he had spotted something that looked like a tiny alien spacecraft. It was hanging from a topmost branch and completely out of reach. He had wondered what it might be.

It was almost twelve o’clock and Joseph had completed his lesson with the older pupils. His talk on ‘Creation’ had proved demanding, but at least the persistent Edie Stubbs appeared animated.

‘Well, ah believe in God an’ ’eaven an’ suchlike,’ she declared.

‘That’s wonderful,’ said Joseph with a beatific smile. Perhaps the lesson hadn’t been a failure after all.