Also, hanging ominously from a hook on the wall was a bamboo cane. Little Malcolm stared up at it and began to tremble. Big Dave put an arm around his shoulders. ‘Don’t worry, Malc,’ he whispered reassuringly, ‘it’ll be all right … Mr Pruett won’t cane us on t’first day.’

Lily was about to follow the last child into school when a lady suddenly appeared at her side carrying a small shopping bag.

‘’Scuse me, Miss Briggs. Ah’m Mrs Poole. My Veronica ’as jus’ started t’day.’ She pointed to a small, freckle-faced, ginger-haired girl who was clutching a rag doll, and then lowered her voice. ‘Ah know she’s five now, but she still wets t’bed when she gets agitated. So ah’ve brought some spare pants. ’Ope y’don’t mind.’

She handed over the bag and Lily glimpsed a pair of baggy navy-blue knickers.

‘Don’t worry, Mrs Poole,’ she said with a reassuring smile, ‘I’ll keep an eye on her.’

‘Thank you kindly, Miss,’ said Audrey Poole with a relieved sigh. ‘Ah were frettin’ summat awful las’ night an’ worryin’ ’bout ’ow she’ll cope.’ She cast a final look at her daughter, who was sitting happily on the hall floor showing her doll to seven-year-old Daphne Cahill.

John Pruett looked at the Robinson boys and noticed how much David had grown during the summer holiday. Their ruddy, sunburned faces were streaked with dust and their spiky hair made them look as though they had been pulled through a hedge backwards – which they probably had.

‘Now, boys,’ he said, ‘what have you to say for yourselves?’

The two boys looked up with sheepish expressions.

‘Sorry, sir,’ mumbled Big Dave. He nudged Little Malcolm.

‘Sorry, sir.’

‘So you should be. Mrs Trott works hard to keep that coke pile tidy. You must apologize to her. Any more misbehaviour and it will be the cane.’

‘Yes, sir,’ said Big Dave, and Little Malcolm nodded.

John studied the two of them. They’re not bad lads, he thought. ‘Fine, make sure you understand. Remember, boys, you must do as you’re told. I’m just trying to keep you safe. It’s for your own good. Now wash your hands, quick as you can, and hurry into the hall.’

Elsie Crapper bashed out the opening line of ‘The King of Love my Shepherd Is’ on the piano and the older children who could read began to sing. The younger ones knew a few of the words, while five-year-old Frank Shepherd wondered why they were singing about him.

John Pruett and Lily Briggs were sitting on chairs at the front of the hall facing the children. ‘Now, boys and girls,’ said John, ‘this is a special day for Ragley School. Hands up if it is your first day here.’ A few of the bigger brothers and sisters encouraged their younger siblings to raise their hands. Then Lily raised hers and the children laughed.