Here’s a sad tale but also one that brings back fond memories that make me smile.

We all remember our school teachers but some stick in our minds more than others. I grew up in a small Yorkshire town and attended the local comprehensive school. Some of my teachers are now just names, blurred faces and obscure leather patches on the elbows. Others remain in perfect focus. One of those teachers who, nearly 40 years later, is still as clear in my mind as the day I first met her is Mrs Pighills. Perhaps it was the curious name. Perhaps it was her distinctive voice. Perhaps I liked her lessons – ‘social studies’ – or her teaching style. Perhaps it was the fact that she lived at the top of the hill on the side of which I also lived. Perhaps it was because her husband was a farmer and…