Maurice O’Scainall

Crime writer, cryptic crossword compiler, retired veterinarian

This sounds a lot easier than it actually is; because, being now on the cusp of 70, can I actually remember me at 14? I remember incidents from my early teens but can’t recall the exact age. Was I interested in girls at 14? I know I was interested in words – my mother was a great crossword fan and, from my earliest secondary school days, she would consult me on difficult clues; so I was a bit of a crossword prodigy, according to her, anyway, but she was biased. I recall one incident where both these interests collided: I was eating an ice-cream cone (a “99”, we called them) and one of the girls in the group said: “Give us a lick, Maurice!” Without thinking, I responded: ‘When I finish my ice-cream.” All I remember is an odd mixture of embarrassment at what sounded like an improper suggestion and pride at my ready wit, and a dirty look from the girl, because girls cop on to what it’s all about much quicker than boys. On the other hand, perhaps all it meant to her was that she clearly wasn’t going to get any of my ice-cream and my interpretation of her dirty look was just the confused conjectures of my 14-year old brain . . .

I’m going to assume that, at 14, I had already adopted what has been a very general philosophy of life: you may not be the best at anything, not tops in the looks department, the sporting world, the hottest dancer at the disco, not always at the top of the class, but so what? Accept the hand that life has dealt you and play it the best way you can. And, at all costs, avoid the lures of Mammon because, unless you actually are Bill Gates, there’ll always be someone richer. That is a thankless (and endless) pursuit.

But then, I was born into a comfortable middle-class family, so it was easy for me to be philosophical.