The picture? That’s me. A confused teenager. I was usually confused. That’s why I ended up at secondary school. I failed the eleven plus and missed out on the grammar school up the road. Every day the school bus went past one of the poshest private schools in the country. We’d stick our nose hard up against the windows and watch the posh kids striding across the green, briefcase in hand, to what looked like a royal palace. The posh kids looked so… posh… so different to us “normal kids”. That contrast provided the inspiration for my first book: The Boy and the Briefcase… and the Moose.