…In Expressive Arts we had to pretend to be witnesses to a house burning down and
act out interviews with the police and journalists…

This was the sort of expressive arts l liked. Not making up dance routines with chairs like Sally Bowles in Cabaret, or doing a percussion workshop that sounded like an explosion in a guiro factory. No, this was proper stuff: role playing and acting and constructive escapism. To use a near-contemporary phrase, it said something to me about my life. Granted, I’d never been in a house fire, but I’d accidentally once set light to a teatowel.