I'd hoped for someone who was remarkably intelligent, but disadvantaged by home circumstance, someone who only needed an hour's extra tuition a week to become some kind of working-class prodigy. I wanted my hour a week to make the difference between a future addicted to heroin and a future studying English at Oxford. That was the sort of kid I wanted, and instead they'd given me someone whose chief interest was in eating fruit. I mean, what did he need to read for? There's an international symbol for the gents' toilets, and he could always get his mother to tell him what was on television.
The narrator expresses a deep desire to mentor a bright, underprivileged child who, with just a little extra help, could rise above their circumstances. They long for an opportunity to be the catalyst for change in a young person's life, transforming potential addiction into academic success. This idealization of a struggling but capable student speaks to their hopes of making a real impact through their tutoring.
However, the reality they face is starkly different. Instead of the motivated pupil they envisioned, they are assigned a child who shows little ambition and is mainly interested in simple pleasures, like eating fruit. The narrator's disappointment highlights the gap between their expectations and the actual situation, revealing the challenges of mentorship when the mentee lacks drive or interest in academic pursuits.