Edna gave Deirdre a knowing look. ‘An’ ah’ve no doubt their dads would return t’favour. So you tell Stanley t’watch ’is step,’ and with that she strode down School View to her home on the council estate.

‘Nowt but a cleaner-upper,’ muttered Deirdre, ‘an’ livin’ on t’never-never if what ah’ve ’eard is true. Not got two ha’pennies t’rub t’gether.’ Then she leaned on the school wall. There had been talk in the village of a new lady teacher and Deirdre was keen to see her for herself.

Elsie Crapper, the timid twenty-eight-year-old church organist, arrived at the school gate. She had volunteered to play the piano in morning assembly prior to walking up the Morton road to St Mary’s Church. Elsie was on the church cleaning rota and the team of ladies known affectionately as ‘the Holy Dusters’ did not take kindly to latecomers. Consequently, Elsie appeared nervous and agitated. ‘Good morning, Deirdre,’ she said quietly.

‘Nowt good that ah can see,’ muttered Deirdre as she eyed up the new teacher. ‘She fancies ’erself, does that one.’

Elsie was in no mood to continue the conversation and scurried up the cobbled drive like a church mouse. Meanwhile Deirdre gave the school a final withering glance and set off for the General Stores to buy cigarettes for her brother.

Lily Briggs took a deep breath. This is where it begins, she thought.

‘Now girls,’ she said, ‘walk smartly into school and show the boys how it should be done.’

John Pruett gave her a wry smile. Good start, he thought.

The girls looked up in awe at their new teacher, who smiled at each one of them as they stepped into school. She appeared very different to Miss Flint, the severe part-time teacher who used to help Mr Pruett and teach the little ones.

‘Now, boys,’ said John Pruett sternly, ‘it’s your turn. Show Miss Briggs how smartly you can walk into school and then sit down in the hall.’ He turned to Lily. ‘I’ll just have a word with the Robinson boys and then I’ll join you.’

Big Dave and Little Malcolm were standing next to the headteacher’s huge oak desk. On it were a magnificent brass inkstand, a collection of broad-nibbed pens and a tall stone bottle full of black ink. On the sloping lid a Manila attendance register lay open at the first page.

The boys looked anxiously around them. John Pruett had written ‘Wednesday, 3rd September 1952’ on the blackboard with a stick of chalk in careful cursive writing. The loop beneath the letter ‘y’ and the descender below the letter ‘p’ were exactly the same length. Mr Pruett believed good handwriting was important and many hours of practice stretched out before the children in his care. On the shelf under the blackboard was a large stick of chalk, a board rubber and a one-yard-long wooden ruler.