I remember an incident at school when I was about 13. One of my tormentors (not one of the worst, I should add), had really upset me by what he said to me on that particular day.

If I recall correctly, it was the end of morning lessons and lunchtime. I knew our next lesson in the afternoon would be French, so I waited until everyone had left the classroom, on the pretence of being busy getting something from my desk.

When all was quiet, I opened the bully’s desk, took his French books out, and put them right at the back of the classroom cupboard. I don’t know to this day how I found the nerve to do it.

When we came back after lunch, our teacher told us all to get our French books out. This nasty little individual’s face was a picture that I still remember it to this day — he looked puzzled and was scratching his head. I had to try and suppress convulsed laughter. He told the teacher he couldn’t find his books.

After a while, the teacher was losing his patience and shouted at him. He did eventually look in the cupboard (or the teacher did), and found them. He accused some of the other boys of putting them in the cupboard.

I don’t think any of them suspected ‘little mouse’ me. They wouldn’t have thought I’d have the nerve to do anything like that.

It was a small victory for me after the way he’d treated me that day and I had a good laugh about it to myself when I got home.

Related: Anti-Bullying Week 2013