Straining The Memory

A Memory of Horsted Keynes.

I attended primary school at Horstead Keynes briefly until it changed location a few miles away. (I went there as well but can't for the life of me recall the name of the place.)  The head mistress was the tall and formidable Mrs. Czerniak, (probably spelt wrongly!), a lady who gave me a good grounding in elementary arithmetic and reading, the latter standing me in good stead ever since. Her husband I think was a Russian emigre, a kind gentleman and a classical violinist of some quality. Their chidren also attended lessons.

Pupils I recall included Lizzie Downward, who sometimes was delivered/collected by her dad in a magnificent open topped Bentley with running boards and hand brake fitted outside the driver's door, and one Edward Greengrass (yes really), who ''didn't know his five times table'', as I once informed my mum. She took this phrase up as some kind of mantra and was fond of repeating it endlessly as a joke and to remind me there was someone else in the world worse 'at sums' than myself!  I suppose it gave me confidence of a sort but it didn't prevent me from failing my Maths GGE (first time) some years later.  Famous alumni included the actor Simon Williams, who would have been my senior by about two years.

I can recall the infamous occasion when dearest mama delivered me to school on a day when there wasn't any, if you get my drift. I was left standing there attempting to open an entrance door that obstinately refused to oblige me, whilst she drove away oblivious to my problem and to the very fact she'd forgotten the head mistress had declared that particular day as a holiday. As I was only five years old this situation took on the guise of a disaster of humungous proportions in my tiny mind and led me to burst into tears instantly.  (All together now, etc....) Nevertheless, I did have the presence of mind to walk over to the village shop where I was comforted by the proprietor. How he managed to find out my mum's telephone no. (actually Sharpthorne 39) remains a mystery, as certainly I wouldnt have known it; nor did he extract a family surname from me. But find it he did and and it was not too long before a very relieved parent appeared on the scene to whisk me away to the family home near Plaw Hatch. Oh, I do like a happy ending, don't you?
  


Added 15 May 2011

#232215

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