You taught your son well Mrs Cooper...

Spinnens Acre...for anyone who lived in Lordswood in the 80's there were a only a handfull of primary schools to choose from, I followed my 'little shit' of a brother in to Spinnens Acre, thinking that i might make some friends because of him. I realised quickly that you make your own friends, you cant rely on anyone else, espeically an older brother

My daily school rotine would always begin with a 20 minute walk from my house to the school, through the park with the ancient Oak trees and countless back alleys that, given a day to roam freely, I could have easily got lost in my imagination...a budding Indiana Jones running through the alleys of doom.

I was always accompanied by my Mum, and for me the precious few moments we shared each morning meant the world to me. My mum was a childminder all my life so I shared her with many many children. This however was our time.

Now one day, I remember it so so well. We were walking through the park on the approach to the shops, just by the school. There was an eerie fog in the air, that flirted with the tops of the trees but no lower. It meant that your vision in front was perfect but the park looked like it was encased in cotton wool around the tips of the trees. Leaves were periodically falling from the skies, floating aimlessly to Earth.

The beginning of term, the arrival of Autumn, a new season, a new chapter in my life. It was about a month into my 2nd year at Primary schoool and this year my mum was letting loose on the virtual rains she held over me. Instead of walking me to the gates of the school, she would wave me off from the car park at the rear of the shops, and I would make the 2 minutes journey from there on my own, often meeting with other entusiastic school walkers along the way.

This one day I was crossing the road and saying good bye to my Mum and I had to wait for this amazing car. It was a TVR and in Lordswood in the 80's you didnt see too many sports cars. As I turn and make the last wave my mum is just backing away to the park, soon to be gone and back to her daily routine of greeting, feeding and playing with the numerous children she looked after. However, I was very much living in the moment of my life as the TVR pulls up beside me and stops

'Can you get in the car and show me the way to the Bank' says a man after his darkened window retreats through the door

'Did I just hear right' my mind says...'what does this mean...my mum told me never to speak to strangers....but the bank is just there, its just there. Do I talk to him, do I run?'

My instinct that fateful day, as the fog swirled around the tree tops, was to ignore him. I was only 7 and when someone talks to you, you should talk back, but its a stranger....

So as my mind tried to ingest the coutless decisions to make, I finally decided to say 'I dont know' and walk off, not even aware of the effects it would have on the days proceedings.

I told a teacher when I got to school in an off the cuff remark and the next thing I remember is sitting on the sofa that night with my mum, and a man and woman from the police. They both kept their hats on throug out, why would they keep there hats on? it seems so formal.

I told them my story and I wondered why people were taking such an interest in it. I never heard anything after that. I was back to playing football with my friends, getting muddy and being the next England Captain. I guess my parents shielded me from any after effects or news. All I do remember is the police lady saying to my mum in the other room, just as she was leaving...

'You taught your son well Mrs Cooper..."