I didn’t set out to be a teacher. When I was six years old, we had to do that writing set piece that you still see adorning classroom walls on school open days today, you know, the ubiquitous When I Grow up I Want to be a… with your best self-portrait on one side and your hopes and dreams on the other? Most of the girls in my class said they wanted to be nurses, so I wanted to be one too. But there were too many nurses (if only that were reflected in our health service today!), so I was told to choose something else. I have no idea how I came to write that I wanted to be a jockey. I had never ridden a horse. In fact, I’m not sure I had ever even touched a horse then, unless, perhaps you count those sad donkeys they used to give rides on at the beach. But, to be honest, I reckon I probably hadn’t done that either; whether thrift or animal rights considerations put my mother off paying for that, I couldn’t say.