Lisa Barraclough – very short, highly freckled, moley in places. I remember a conversation among classmates about what we’d do if we wanted to impress a girl and, in a totally failed attempt to show how cool I was, I casually said ‘Oh, I’d probably just take her to a café for a Coke,’ - all the while looking at her to see if she was impressed.
Richard Thorpe – carrot-top. Had a tiny nipple-like mole on his right cheek. Would get erections and hop around the classroom like a jester, giggling, ‘Look! I’ve got a hard-on!’
James Marshall – sickboy. Serious asthma. Always carried an inhaler. Had had a major heart operation which left a massive scar down his chest, to which we all reacted with appalled gasps when he showed us. Everyone said if you punched him he might die. I did once. Thankfully, he didn’t die.
Christopher Shaw – another carrot-top. Probably my best mate for most of our infant and junior school days. His mum always bought him really good trainers, which made me jealous. Skinny and an annoyingly fast runner. Once, he slipped on in the playground and landed on his front teeth. He chipped one. I was there and saw his face contort as he registered the pain and started to cry. Afterwards I would try to imitate this face to make the other children laugh. Often when he was there.
Andrew Wilkinson – Another mate. Had impossibly straight, fair hair. Always the same haircut, throughout school. Never brushed his teeth.
Darren Smith – Good at sport and at one stage considered the ‘cock of the school’. A bully. When working in class and needing the rubber (eraser), would start counting down from five, with the threat that if someone on the table didn’t find it for him before he got to zero, he would twat them. Also among his tyrannies of the Red Table, instituted the use of a swear jar. Eventually took all the money. Also used to demand other children’s Kit-Kats at lunch-times.
Tasleem Kamal – distinguished by being one of the two class ‘pakis’, along with her brother, Shakeel. Once pissed her pants in class. Often picked on. Ran quite fast.
Shakeel Kamal – who was stupider than his sister and more eager to please the class alphas. He wore a little silk pouch round his neck whose contents were always a mystery.
Claire Waddington – darling, darling Claire, who always did her work to a high standard, had thick dark hair and lovely white skin, and a stippling of freckles on the flesh between the thumb and index finger of her writing hand.
Natalie Ramsden – came to the class late. At the age of ten, could speak authoritatively about the collective unconscious and other things that bamboozled her classmates and probably the teacher. She was nervous and wonderfully clever and not like the other kids. Natalie, where are you now? Sorry I took so many of your Kit-Kats.
Lisa Jackson – while in this class, I once heard a voice in my head, something that had never happened before and has never happened since. It was unconnected with anything I have ever been able to think of. It whispered one word: the name ‘Lisa’. She was the only Lisa I knew (the other Lisa had not yet joined the class), and I had absolutely no interest in her, so I don't know what that was all about. She once pissed her pants in class, like Tasleem.
Yvonne Marsden – who was always licking her lips to keep them wet, for god-knows what reason, and spoke in a barely audible whisper. Excruciatingly shy in class. Had mottled legs. Though I don’t remember her ever pissing her pants in class, she was always a likely candidate.
Shelley Kilroy – the only mixed-race girl in the class. Quite pretty. Had pig-tails and acted like a baby. Was a bit of a space cadet, liked to ‘make believe’ – always in an American accent, as was de rigueur at the time.
Lee Brydon – big lad. Rugby-player’s build. Ran really fast. Had a mini-motorbike at home. He liked George Formby and would sometimes imitate his laugh. “Tickety-boo!” I used to call him Babdon. Had a fight with him once when I was ‘cock of the school’. He was far tougher than me and when he hit me I filled up with tears. I pretended it was because I had something in my eye.
Lee Rowan – who used to be sick into his mouth and would chew the bits. Was able to fold his eyelids backwards. The roughest boy in the class. Always had scabs round his mouth. Rock hard. His dad, an alcoholic former boxer, had two rottweilers. Was never happy about my status as ‘cock of the school’ and eventually challenged me. I was shit-scared, but surprisingly I saw him off in a fist fight.
Mark Gibbons – a mischief-maker. Always hung around with the bad lads. Would bite his nails until there was hardly any nail left. A cheeky, funny lad, always up to no good.
Jason Goodall – a pretty, blond boy from a broken home. Used to knock about with Lee and Mark. The only boy whose mother let him have long hair.
Rebecca Thompson – had a birthmark on her cheek. We used to make up rude-sounding names to call each other, like ‘you spargle’ or ‘you bortfinger’, or ‘you spewm’.
Paul Asquith – short-arse who had buck-teeth and a massive boa constrictor living in his house.
Sarah Carter – who wore thick NHS glasses that made her look comically stupid, and seemed destined for calamity.
Andrew Layden – who lived right next to the school and was most in need of schooling. Always arguing with his sister. His dad was a mechanic.
Angela Layden – Andrew’s sister, who had bigger buck-teeth than Paul, and who once called me a ‘shitflick’. So I punched square in the face, busting her nose.
Kelly Whitehead – was pretty, though had quite a large head. When it was milk time, she had this way of rhythmically sticking her tongue out as she sucked the milk through the straw – a display I would always secretly watch, giggling.
Joanne Mellor – my partner for the May-pole dance in class 6. Once, when I was milk monitor, I spiked one of the bottles of milk with all sorts crap I found on the floor, like bits of dust, pencil shavings and hair. Joanne was the unfortunate one to drink it. She was sick and had to have the next day off school.
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