The phenomenal success of her play Stones in His Pockets has catapulted Belfast playwright Marie Jones into the limelight

I was born on August 29th. You start school on September 1st so when I went I was just about four. I was the absolute youngest.

I went to Beechfield Primary, right beside where we lived. I remember walking round with my mummy and going in. My sister was there too - she was a year-and-a-half older than me.

At the lunchtime I went into the dining room and I was absolutely terrified. Suddenly I was in this huge room and all these people were talking and eating dinner. We only lived in a tiny little house and I was scared out of my wits. I ran a round the corner and went to one of our neighbour's, my mummy's friend, but I was landed back in school again the same day.

There were no parents' evenings, fetes and taking kids to and from school. That first day was the only day that my ma ever took me to school in my life.

I just had one of those faces - it kept getting me into trouble. In all, there might have been just one day that I didn't get into trouble. What really annoyed me was that no matter what was happening, I was always the one who got caught. They always singled me out as the ringleader.

The funny thing then wasyou couldn't have said anything about it. In our school they had a cane - many a time I hadn't a hand left on me. They also had a bat - you had to bend over and get a smack, flat on the backside. You couldn't go home and cry about it. If you did, they'd only think at home that you must have done something really bad to have been hit in the first place. You couldn't let on and risk getting it again.

Having said that, I got on all right with my teachers. There wasn't one that was really dreadful. You could have been a scared of them at times but not to the stage of getting nightmares. We had a lot more respect for our teachers. The odd time there would be one that could give you that look - then you'd think, "Oh my God, anyone but her please!"

I never wanted to stay off school even though I didn't really go for it in a big way. In fact, the one thing that I was good at at school was that I turned up at all. Even when my reports were horrendous, I always had gold stars for actually going to school.

I even went when the other kids didn't. One year there was a big snow - it was really bad and only about 10 people bothered to turn up and there was me with them, the last person you would think. They said you had to be in school unless you were sick, so unless I was sick I was there. I did obey some rules.

Once in a while someone would mitch. I did do it once, only the once mind you, and that was an adventure. Me and my friend went down the town into Belfast. We were scared and looking at everybody because we thought, any moment now they're going to call the school. We had our uniforms on, of course. We ducked down behind the corners and laughed.

At that time there was what you called "the man from the board". That meant the school board. If we saw anybody with a suit and a briefcase and a bit of a refined manner about him, we screamed "there's the Board now!" and ran like hell. At 11 o'clock we were saying that back in the school, they'll all be sitting doing such and such right now and the same at 12 - but, after 3 p.m. it was no fun any more because everyone else was out, so we just went home.

I went to the same secondary school as Van Morrison, Orangefield High. There was one particular teacher, who I remember saying, "You'll need some qualifications. You're not factory fodder, so get down to work." I did a bit after that and I passed enough exams to let me get some secretarial work when I left. That did me untill I got into the Group Theatre with Jimmy Young.

I GOT involved in plays and theatre as a punishment. I was called to the headmistress with my friend and told, "Right, you've had too many detentions and it's not keeping you out of trouble, so you've to join the drama group and that's an order." I thought, "Oh my God, I'm going to be expelled." We thought it would be a real punishment and that all the swots would be doing Shakespeare.

After school I walked up to the drama group room, knocked on the door and said, "Headmistress sent me." There was a room full of people laughing, singing, dancing. They were practising a musical called The Boyfriend. I couldn't believe it - they were kicking their legs up in the air. From that moment on I thought: I've found something that can let this personality of mine be.

In conversation with Janet Stafford