Seaside treat that left me smarting

AGED ten, in July 1934, it was my last week at the local junior school, and that Monday my headmaster spoke to the class. As a farewell treat, he said he had organised a coach trip to Southend-on-Sea for the coming Saturday. School funds would pay half the coach fees if our parents could pay the rest. Saturday arrived, and we were on our way. After a while, the head announced: ‘The first pupil to see the sea must shout out “Sea!” ’ We all cheered. Then he explained the itinerary. We would go to Woolworths and buy a small present for our parents. After this we would go on the pier and later to the fairground, where the coach would be parked nearby. I walked round the store twice before I found a small present ideal for my family. There was a large queue to be served. When I looked round my class had vanished. I was terrified. I headed back to where the coach was parked and the driver told me to sit on board. An hour later the headmaster arrived fuming and demanded: ‘What are you doing here? We’ve been looking for you.’ When I told my story, he cuffed me. He had returned to the shop to find me and assumed I wouldn’t remember where the coach was. We joined the rest of the class at the fairground. I’d missed the train ride up the pier. Nearing home, the master told us to sing along loudly. Everyone but me sang merrily, as they had enjoyed their day. My enjoyment for the day was a smarting left ear. Not a happy memory.

Bob Hunt, Bengeo, Hertford.