Earlier this year, I had an author visit to a school I’d been to before. No, not one where I’d gone before any time recently. Instead, I’d attended Coston Primary School in Greenford, London when my family had been living there for a year and a half back in the early 90s. Yes, it’s been a while! This visit was the first time I’d stepped back into that school ever since we’d left London all those years ago.

As I got on the Underground for the journey to Greenford, I began wondering if I’d recognise anything from the school. I remembered the outdoor ‘huts’ where some classes were held. I remembered the Y2 form group I’d been in, the Swallows! I also remembered the assembly hall, where I’d once been ‘named and shamed’ as one of the naughty pupils of the month! Most of all, however, I remembered the teachers. There were two that sprang to mind. My main class teacher, whose name I don’t recall, and another teacher, who took our class once or twice a week, called Mrs Brown. I always looked forward to her visits because for some reason I didn’t seem to get into trouble with her so much, and the lessons felt like a relief. At least, that’s how I remember things. Childhood memories, as with all memories, do have a habit of behaving like a deck of cards sometimes.

Now, if the name Brown rings a bell (a certain Jennifer, perhaps?), you might wonder if I named my character after that teacher. Truth is, I don’t know. I didn’t consciously, though the unconscious mind does have a way of making its presence felt.

Arriving at the school, I was greeted by the head of English and taken to the assembly hall. I was very touched and pleasantly surprised to see that my photo had been put up on one of the corridor walls along with various recent historical figures who had lived in Greenford! Somehow I’d turned into a local celebrity!

The assembly hall looked so much smaller than how I remembered it. Then again, perhaps the fact that I wasn’t about to be punished had something to do with it as well!

It was the start of Reading Week at Coston, and I’d prepared a short talk on the importance of reading and all the benefits it can have. I was then asked to spend time with two Y4 classes. In the first one, I spotted some posters the children had made about myths and legends, and what these were. I decided to do a little workshop on how legends start. This turned out to be great fun, and the children joined in enthusiastically. It’s always great when this sort of thing works out!

During breaktime, I had coffee in the staffroom and chatted to a few of the teachers. I took the opportunity to ask if anyone remembered Mrs Brown, and sure enough, a few of the teachers said they’d heard of her. Clearly, she’d left long since. However, one teacher did say that she had apparently been very strict, which I found intriguing. Totally at odds with what I remembered about her!

In the second class, I did an author Q&A, followed by a group exercise on creating a story. This involved getting the children to come up with ideas on characters, setting and plot. Oh, my, this was fascinating! We settled on the main character being a little girl who is generally nice and quiet, and doesn’t ever get into trouble at school. When I asked if she had any brothers or sisters, someone suggested that she had an older brother…the next suggestion was that this older brother was an, er, gangster!

I decided to go with the flow and see where this would lead. Well I never cease to be amazed at the tales that children will come up with! Bit by bit, a really interesting story developed: the girl was struggling with her lessons and worried that she wouldn’t pass her exam. So, she gets her older brother (the gangster) to break into the school and steal the exam papers. The brother is caught red-handed.

At this point, I asked the class how they thought the little girl felt about the situation. I asked them to bear in mind the personality they had chosen for her, namely someone who is a nice person. The answer I expected was that she’d be feeling upset or guilty about what had happened.

Well, that was never going to happen. Instead, one eager girl put up her hand and said, without any hint of sarcasm:

“Well, she realises that you can’t always be nice and kind…!”

Goes to show the unexpected ways in which different people, of different ages, can think about these situations. Given the same scene, we can derive different conclusions. Still, it was great fun working with the children on this. I stayed for a while longer, helping them with their poem writing lesson. When my time was drawing to a close and the head of English arrived to say goodbye, I was almost sorry to leave. Some of the children were saying “Please sir, don’t go…!”

Remembering my own days at school, I understood. It always made a nice change to have another adult in the classroom, such as another teacher, a visiting student, or a speaker. Little did I ever think that one day it would be me!