The very beginning of my story. Visit our family home and the warm chaos within. Meet my Mum, Dad, brother and sisters. A glimpse into life in the 1960's.

My first ballet classes as a six year old. How my mother saved the day.

Things start to scale up when I go to Corona Stage School. I find a dance mentor and Dad becomes a grumpy hero.

My Dad organises my secret audition for a professional Ballet School in East Grinstead. I then meet another influential lady in my life whilst I Polka in the biggest studio I have ever seen.

My Italian family think I have been kidnapped, my Dad tells them where to go whilst I get turned down for a grant.

A rather tense car ride to my new Ballet School. My little sister playing 'rag doll' with me, my brother giving me a whole Ten Shilling note and my mother sobbing and smoking like she would use every cigarette in Surrey. Meeting 'Nursey' and finding out that trendy, short skirts were useless for galloping like a horse around a dance studio.

How I yearned for winceyette pyjamas and boring old fashioned slippers.

Crisp and formal bedding, lights out and growing home sickness with an unusual approach to bed time.

Girls behaving 'sort of badly' at night. Strange rituals involving absent Nursey and Glito . . . . .

My first morning with a ridiculously early start, cold linoleum and myriad shoes.

The one where my Dad delivers coffee and Marmite in catering size jars!

Evenings at a girls Ballet School for borders. Midnight games, kissing practise 'girl on girl', crushes, making cheese from yoghurts and eventually sleep. . . .

Strange latin phrases, weekend visits to my family and cuddling my sister. Dancing on the staircase.

Being at a Ballet School involves many rituals. You also have to know your place in the hierarchy. This is where Aprons came in. Your apron and National Skirts were part of you. Life evolved around the seamstress who inhabited a cramped and warm space at the top of the school, a sort of haven for me. . . .

It seems young ballet dancers need to learn about washing tights with fabric softener and how to put clothes on in a hurry.

My 'Pygmalion' moment when I learn to 'speak posh', learn how to read & write at last and secret moments with my parents and baby sister Gaynor in the Tuck Box room.

We loved Fire Drills which were always so exciting and after lights out. Nothing however prepared us for performing tap dance routines with John Noakes and Roy Castle on our own theatre.

This is the one about the incredibly ethereal lady who inhabited our Blue Pond and school corridors at night. Also the strange powers of levitation at our fingertips.

My first year at Ballet School was tough and my homesickness was extreme.

I discover the agony and ecstasy of dancing in pointe shoes. These were of course so much more than shoes. Every pair of every girls pointe shoes was individual to them.