The happiest ending of all is seeing a child lost in a book

When my son is all grown up – an intellectual of global renown, proud but humbled to be receiving the Nobel – will he remember the woman who changed his life?

Shortly before Christmas, my husband and I were summoned by the special needs teacher at his school. There was, she hurried to reassure us, nothing exactly wrong with George: he just wasn’t learning to read. While his fellow six-year-olds were tearing through the adventures of Biff, Chip and Kipper, George was still struggling to ascertain that the cat sat on the mat. Would we mind if she signed him up for something called Reading Recovery?

Seven months later, George reads anything he lays eyes on – from The BFG to the back of the cereal packet. Magazine articles, clothing labels, adverts on buses. On car journeys he provides a whispered inventory of the road signs: “Permit holders only”; “No stopping at any time”; “Humps for 50 yards”.

How Marion, his Reading Recovery teacher, effected this miracle, I have no idea. All I know is that he spent half an hour with her every day, and came home with his chest plastered in stickers declaring: “Fabulous phonics!” and “Brilliant word-blender!”

I do know (because I Googled it) that the Reading Recovery programme was invented by a New Zealand academic called Marie Clay, who died in 2007. Until the Eighties, schools tended to ignore early reading difficulties on the grounds that everyone learns at a different pace, and that the child in question would surely “grow out of it”. Some did, but others didn’t. They fell further and further behind, lost confidence, lost interest and eventually slipped noiselessly beneath the waves of low expectations.

Having worked in primary schools herself, Clay insisted that even the most baffled pupils could be taught to read if the teacher was patient, observant and had the right tools (such as phonetics training). Her trademarked programme is now used in schools across the English-speaking world – including, mercifully, George’s – and has helped millions of children.

The repercussions of this are profound. A new study claims that reading well at an early age makes you more intelligent in later life. Researchers tracked 1,900 identical twins over nine years. They found that those who did best in reading tests aged seven consistently outscored their twins in both verbal and non-verbal tests, right up to the age of 16.

Although the experts can’t say exactly how the causation works, it does appear to be a case of practice making perfect. In other words, reading leads to cleverness, rather than the other way round. And as with pensions, the sooner you start, the better the returns.

Of course, the benefits are not merely academic. “To acquire the habit of reading,” said Somerset Maugham, “is to construct for yourself a refuge from almost all the miseries of life.” Watching a child learn to read is like seeing them reborn – this time with superpowers. They are suddenly capable of infinite adventures, in the privacy of their own head.

Thanks to Marion – and Mrs Clay – George now has the skeleton key to unlock the entire archive of human imagination. He can experience excitement, danger, pleasure, satisfaction and sorrow, without a grown-up to hold his hand. It is the beginning of his autonomous life.

Every night now, after bed, George stealthily switches his light back on and opens Harry Potter at the page with the folded-down corner. He has already learnt to fold the corners! This alone makes tears of joy prickle my eyes. I spy on him through the crack in the door: he moves his lips and frowns as he follows his finger across the page. He is lost to me, doing battle with dragons and wizards – and I couldn’t be happier to see him go.