'Class 4', was for the struggling pupils – pupils went here to have additional tuition for differing lengths of time in order to catch up if their overall progress was not satisfactory. It was known unaffectionately by other pupils as ‘The Backward Class’
Opposite the cloakroom was Class 2, which was 'marshalled' by Miss (Nellie) Cable (a bit of a stickler for obedience and silence unless you were spoken to). She had the same curled white hair as the Queen has now. She was very well spoken to the point of sounding plummy, but this lady had the job of teaching children to read, write (over and above the Janet and John books read through in the infants' class), and learn multiplication tables up to twelve in rhythmic chanting fashion.

Finally, everybody met Mr. (Frank?) Lockwood, who held ‘Class 1' - the last class of the school before pupils would be going to on to secondary school. He was a quietly-spoken man approaching middle age (and quite reminiscent of John Cleese in that he had the same thinning hairstyle, same height and posture - even down to the 'Basil Fawlty' tweed jacket with leather elbow patches), whose job it was to try to polish and prepare pupils for the transition to secondary school. However, understanding that you would be called by your surname only in the new school, adorning long trousers from day one, and having to be responsible for real dinner money in your pocket, the one thing anybody failed to mention about going on to an all-boys' school was being invited to go and see the **blue goldfish (See bottom of page for explanation of the blue goldfish).
There were basically three choices of school - Southend High School for Boys for those who passed their 11+, and catchment area selection for either Fairfax High School for Boys or Cecil Jones Mixed CoEd.

Morning Milk
Milk was an everyday requirement, and was distributed to schools in one-third-of-a-pint-sized glass bottles. It was stacked up in crates in the main corridor at the bottom of the stairway. There was a milk monitor (a rotating task for the prefects) who made sure every pupil got one and drank it, whether they actually liked it or not.

School Dinners
At the far end of the school on the right was a relatively new building which was the dining hall. The lucky ones had brought sandwiches with them, the others had to eat a school dinner, and that no-one knew was on the menu until they reached the counter - and then often it still needed to be identified (in later years, a wall-mounted menu was placed to warn everybody of what was to come).
This is where the big powdered mashed potato experiment seemed to be taking place. Light and fluffy it was not - it sat like a cow-pat on the plate. It was foul-tasting stuff, although if you mixed it in with a few lumps of gravy, you could get it down your neck without retching. Blessed were the days of rissoles!
Once dinner was eaten, the knife and fork had to be placed at twenty-five past five on the plate - a good thing really, because quite a few of the marrowfat peas could be lined up on the plate, and hidden under the utensils.

Pink Custard
Desert was a hit and miss affair too. Here, some of the quicker eaters would have already put their dinner plates onto the rack, and filed along the counter. This was the first glimpse of what was to come. It was somewhat encouraging If it was a syrup or jam sponge pudding, but often this would come with no option than to have pink custard with it. Pink Custard! Over forty years later I still recall it vividly with a sense of dread - that thick, leather-like skin that formed on the top still makes me shiver and feel slightly nauseous to think about it. It took a note from a parent to be excused dinner and being given the softer option of a piece of fruit or something (at times the preferred option was to go without). Nothing else could save you. A point of fact: There was never a practice fire drill at dinner times.

The Playground
The playground was used during summer months for Fêtes and Country Dancing as well as Jumble Sales. These were invariably for, and run by, the parents and pupils.
There was a stand-pipe in the playground for drinking water during ‘play’ times. You were not allowed back indoors until play time was over. Play time ended with a long blow on a whistle from the ‘Play time’ lady (an elected teacher either rostered or short-straw-drawn). At the sound of the whistle, every boy and girl had to 'freeze' until the 'playtime lady' beckoned to go inside. This had to be done in orderly fashion - no stampeding!
On days where it rained monsoon-style, or when the outside temperature dropped to minus 5 degrees celcius outside, the pupils had play time indoors – usually their classrooms.

During the summer months a large pool frame with a blue liner was erected in the playground for swimming lessons. This was not heated and it was a case of better to move around alot on colder days or just stand rigid with teeth chattering and arms clasped around shoulders shivering. Square white polystyrene floats and inflatable armbands were supplied for those who did less than float.

In the playground, P.E. was taken, including ‘Rounders’. School P.E. kit colour was dark blue t-shirt and shorts. A cricket wicket had been painted onto the East Street-side wall (still there), and there were various painted frames for games like hopscotch. There was a dividing line, marked by a solid white line marking the two separated playing areas, but cannot recall if this marked a Boy/Girl or Infant/Junior area.
Boys in the last class before leaving the school (Class 1) had their playtimes in the smaller play area on the other side of the school buildings, backing on to the churchyard. In this small area there were the boys toilets; an old brick-built outhouse with a constant smell of damp…not really visited unless you were really desperate.

Wednesdays was Church Day – for what seemed like forever singing hymns, psalms and listening to the sermon of the week. Classes were lined up in the playground in rows of two's – boy & girl, to a “hold hands and no talking” command, and walking from the school, along the twisting path across to the church grounds, and into the church. The children were shepherded the whole way from door to door by the class teachers who walked alongside at staggered spaces (a journey that took as long as six minutes if someone stopped the procession to re-tie a shoelace).

**The Blue Goldfish:
This was where in secondary school (Fairfax High School for Boys is the example here - it is not known if it was a ritual unique to that school), third or fourth formers would pick out a likely new boy in his neatly knotted school tie and crisp new blazer with the multi-coloured biro pens in the top pocket, and ask him if he had ever seen a blue goldfish. Of course the amazed and completely gullible first year boy would be keen to see it, feeling honoured that the older boys had chosen him out of all the other boys to show this unheard of phenomena.
He would be escorted by a group of older lads to the boy's toilets, where, after picking an empty cubicle, and checking that the coast was clear of any teachers, they would bend him over the toilet, push his head down the pan and pull the chain. The resulting cascade of chemical blue water would drench the boy's head. As they drew back, the boy would rise up sharply, eyes wide open and mouth agape, coughing and spluttering - resembling a goldfish. A blue goldfish.
Word quickly got round, so never more than two at the most got caught out like that for every new induction. I might point out that I had received a tip off from a friend's older brother about the ritual.