‘What job would you do if you weren’t a writer?’

A TEACHER has invited me to school to talk to a class of 11- and 12-year-olds about journalism.

In preparation, the pupils have read one of my columns — an 800-word piece on my pitiable lack of numerical ability — called “Arithmophobia: Face the Fear”.

I face the students, eight of whom are waving their hands in the air at me, with varying degrees of maniacal desperation. Glancing at their urgent faces, I pick the one that looks closest to imploding — a boy whom I shall call Sharp as Tacks, front-right of class.