Enchanted by her painting — we never spoke, then 55 years later

In 1961, at a primary school in north London, our teacher asked the class to paint a galleon. My effort was what you’d expect from a 10-year-old, but when I came in the next day I found it on the wall and, beside it, a Spanish galleon rendered in brilliant detail.

Its masts were perfect and its sails hung limp on a calm sea; the boy beside me pointed out the artist and said, “Little Brownie,” indicating a blond girl I had never noticed. I should have walked over and told her how amazing it was, but I didn’t. We stayed at the same school for five more years and then she left at 15.

I finished school, did a fitting and turning apprenticeship and moved to Australia in 1973, but I never stopped thinking about that painting. I kept a journal and would often worry that someone with her gift might have had to set it aside to make ends meet; when I visited the UK I asked old schoolfriends, but she seemed to have vanished.

United Kingdom, north London

galleon, painting, primary school, north london, 1961, little brownie, blond girl, journal, apprenticeship, australia