Rosemary Ingham was born in Sussex, the third child in a family of four. A brother eight years older was her hero. She was allowed to join in his risky games, providing she never cried, a prohibition which has had a lasting effect! Around the age of three she taught herself to read and has been addicted to it ever since. Writing came a little later - she was six when she wrote a poem about the Battle of Bannockburn, of all unlikely subjects. It scanned, as the same hero brother was strict about scansion. Perhaps it's just as well she no longer attempts poetry. She loved school although she had a reputation as the naughty one, in contrast to an older sister who was a model pupil. At seventeen she went to Girton College, Cambridge, to read English. 'Lots of new experiences, lots of interesting people, including aspiring writers, but I didn't mix with writers! I always wanted to be a teacher. It wasn't a last resort or even a second choice, as it is for some people. I did consider other careers - got as far as acting and archaeology but never considered writing. I must have been working through them alphabetically.'
So Rosemary stayed on at Cambridge to do her PGCE. Perhaps surprisingly, teaching lived up to all her expectations. She missed it during the eight years she spent at home when her three children were young. 'Which isn't to say I regret it. My children are a vital part of my life.' She denies having any particular appetite for promotion. Becoming successively Head of English (loved it), Deputy Head (frustrating because it took her away from students without giving her the power to transform their experience of school) and Headteacher (the best job ever) was a natural progression. It angers her when people assume she couldn't wait to get away from running a comprehensive school. On the contrary. Giving up was a real wrench. But education was absorbing all her creative energies. 'I wasn't writing anything - except endless bids for money, which often required a good deal of imagination!'
Schools - how they were, how they are, how they might be - are the background for her novels. 'I have a campaigning streak. As I see it, we're heading in the wrong direction, fast. Too much control, too much testing, giving our children a more and more arid experience.' She'd be delighted if anything she wrote struck a chord with teachers, and maybe even made a difference. . .