Free Enid Blyton by Barbara Stoney

‘experimental school’ – her own description of Southernhay in a 1938 edition of Who’s Who. Yet an unexpected letter from Brian Thompson in October 1962 evoked some of the memories she had apparently buried in the intervening years, for she replied:
    Your letter recalled the dear old days at Southernhay, where I was so happy with your family and loved you children so much! I think it was the foundation of all my success, for I ‘practised’ on you, you know … Give my love to the other boys – David, Peter and John – if you see them soon – and tell them I have never forgotten them! I loved you all – and Mollie Sayer too … it was one of the happiest times of my life when I had that little ‘school’.
    Although her teaching days were over, her writing kept her busier than ever before. Even with Hugh as a distraction during those first four months of 1924, she had earned well over £90 from her work for the periodicals alone, and this was in addition to the quarterly payments of royalties on her various books.
    The success of her writings for Teachers’ World and the other educational journals resulted in her now getting a large postbag from schools both in the British Isles and overseas. Teachers thanked her for the stories, plays and songs, which they used for their lessons and complimented her on From my Window, which many of them now read out weekly to their pupils. The children commented frankly. ‘I like your “days of the week” poems,’ wrote one small girl, early in 1924, ‘but “Thursday” is quite wrong. Couldn’t you write another for Thursday?’ ‘I should think,’ was the rather prophetic comment of another, ‘that if you go on writing nice poems you will be quite famous one day.’ A boy wanted to know all about fairies because, ’ … when I asked the School Inspector what he knew about them, he didn’t really seem to know much more than I did.’ She answered most of these letters herself, either direct to the child or through the school concerned. The fact that her name was now becoming well known to hundreds of readers of these journals helped towards the sale of her books and this did not go unnoticed in other publishing circles, which again resulted in further commissions.
    The Easter of 1924 was spent with Mabel and Hugh at Seaford on the Sussex coast – ‘the loveliest Easter that ever was.’ The happiness of the weekend was marred, however, by ‘a beastly letter from Grandpa’ – again the contents were not divulged, even in her diary, but on her return home:
    Mabel had a talk with him about being so absurdly stupid to me and he has promised to behave better! He has climbed down and I can have a latchkey.
    Evidently Grandpa Attenborough, a religious man of high moral principles, approved neither of Enid’s association with Hugh, nor of the late hours she was now keeping. Like many others of his generation and background, he frowned upon the newly-found freedom of the young women of that time and even rebuked Enid on one occasion for holding hands with Hugh ‘in public’. Twenty-six years of age she might be, but while she was still under his roof, he no doubt felt a certain responsibility towards her.
    Hugh’s divorce case was evidently heard at Easter as planned, for in May the pair started looking for a flat and Enid began gathering a trousseau together. From 17 May to 4 June, she made no entries in her diary, but she recommenced on the 5th with:
    Hugh phoned at 6.15 to say he was coming down to see me and bringing two rings for me to choose from. He came and we looked at them in the summer house. They were lovely but the one I’ve chosen is adorable! [a three-tiered diamond and emerald, set in gold] Hugh was such a dear and I do love him so … It will be lovely to be really engaged.
    The following day her pencil appeared to have been almost out of control as she ecstatically wrote:
    I was very excited all day because I was going to meet Hugh and go to a