Tuesday This city school is certainly multicultural. The assembled parents at the gate, as well as a few grandparents like us, cover the gamut of skin and hair colour, face and eye shape, all faithfully reflected in the children as they noisily emerge. Abi’s friend is Japanese; her mother tells Grandma how Abi is helping her daughter with her English, “using easy words and talking slowly”. Can this, we wonder, be a literacy hour spin-off?

Wednesday The composite photo appears in the local paper as well as on the buses, on taxis, outside McDonald’s and other outlets. It’s all over town. After school we collect Luke and Abi to take them to our place for tea. We overtake a taxi. “There’s me,” shouts Luke - a grammatical infelicity which he certainly didn’t pick up in the literacy hour.

Thursday There is, we all know, no such thing as a free lunch or free city-wide football publicity; even a 10-year-old has his price. The reward for the four young stars is free tickets to a friendly international against Mexico: they will bring the flag out on to the pitch and get a new football, an England strip and a plastic sombrero. A parent must accompany - that’s the only way Luke’s dad, who had tried unsuccessfully to buy a ticket, gets to see the match. He’s more excited than Luke.

Friday Today we have a break from being in loco parentis. I ask the astonished milkman if I may photograph his milk float. “You’ve got my grandson on the back,” I explain. I spare a thought for three other excited children around the city, other parents and grandparents quietly basking in reflected publicity, if not actual glory. (By the way, England won, but the sombrero is still being worn with panache and pride.) Michael Smith is a retired teacher. He lives in Derby