With one school already under his belt, another opening next month, and more on the wish list, Sir Peter Vardy is creating his own education empire.

Nick Morrison looks at how a car salesman is stirring up controversy in the classroom.

A SIGN outside the entrance states that when Emmanuel College opened in 1990, it was "Built and dedicated to the glory of God". Further on, the stone gateway carries the inscription, "The Lord has done great things for us and we are glad", a quotation from Psalms 126, verse three. Further still, the engraving on a stained glass window above the door reads, "In the beginning God created the Heavens and the Earth". For a school accused of indoctrinating its pupils with Christianity, there's certainly no hiding of lights under bushels.

But while Emmanuel has never made any secret of the prominence it gives to religion, it has provided plenty of ammunition for its critics, most recently over allegations that it taught its pupils that the Bible's account of creation was a theory on the same level as evolution. Richard Dawkins, esteemed Oxford professor, was prompted to accuse the Gateshead school of "deliberately and wantonly" misleading its pupils.

Emmanuel rode the storm but, while it hardly needs propping up, at least its isolation is about to end. The Vardy Foundation, which sponsors Emmanuel, is investing another £2m in the King's Academy in Middlesbrough, which opens its doors next month, replacing two other secondary schools. After that, the foundation will open another school in Doncaster, with more planned for Newcastle and Sunderland. Soon, the foundation will have its own education empire.

Sir Peter Vardy, foundation chairman and the emperor in question, is, not surprisingly, unapologetic about his stipulation that the schools should have a Christian ethos, as well as an insistence that all pupils wear a uniform and that rules are strictly enforced.

"I believe that God created the Earth and he created man in his own image," he says. "There are an awful lot of folks that believe in creation, and what we seek to do here is reflect a broad education, so in RE we tell them about creation, and in science we tell them about evolution. That is a rounded education.

"It is very narrow minded to teach evolution and not creation, and it is very narrow minded to teach creation and not evolution. Here, they get both."

Last year's furore erupted after a Creationist group rented a room at Emmanuel for a meeting, and Sir Peter still clearly feels aggrieved at the way the college was treated and the pupils were portrayed as Christian Stepford children.

'It was all blown out of proportion - you would think we were part of the Ku Klux Klan the things people say about us," he says. "If anyone is indoctrinated it is them outside," he waves dismissively, "they're walking around like robots. We really have been attacked unmercifully and unjustly. It is demoralising, when I'm trying to do the best for the children and make a difference, and I'm getting pilloried by the Press."

Despite the controversy, Emmanuel's results ensured it had no problem resisting outside interference. Last year's GCSE results ranked it the fourth best comprehensive in the country, 98 per cent of its pupils scoring five or more A-C grades.

Sir Peter saw the opportunity to get involved in education when the Thatcher government came up with the idea of City Technology Colleges, privately sponsored schools independent of local councils. Sponsors put in 20 per cent of the cost - taxpayers made up the rest - and got to dictate how the schools are run.

"I saw it as an opportunity to make a difference. There are all sorts of problems in society, and most of it comes down to education. If we can give children the right start in life and a good understanding of values, then we will have a better society," he says. "Obviously, I'm motivated by my Christian faith, and I want to leave the world a better place."

By law, all schools should have a morning assembly with a broadly Christian theme, and the fact that Emmanuel is one of the few to comply means it should be congratulated, not vilified, in Sir Peter's view.

"Every school should be doing what we're doing. We have morning assemblies that are broadly Christian, but there's no indoctrination of the children, they don't have to carry three Bibles around with them," he says.

Emmanuel's pupils themselves don't feel they're being brainwashed, although there is a certain resignation to the way they've been characterised, not just the result of the Christian-thing, to be fair, but bolstered by the school's strict uniform code and rigid adherence to discipline.

"People think we're robots," complains 15-year-old Rachel Miller. "We don't get brainwashed at all - we get taught the facts, and it is up to you whether you believe it or not."

"Sometimes it gets a bit annoying when people prejudge you," adds Steven McFarlane, also 15. "People think we carry around three Bibles and say 'God is good', but we don't."

Nigel McQuoid, the principal of Emmanuel who will also become principal of the King's Academy, shares his pupils' frustration at how they have been depicted.

"There was initial anger that we were being misrepresented, and the big things are that we've creamed off the clever kids, that all our kids are picked from nice homes, and they are all brainwashed from the Bible," he says. "But the children don't all walk around with three Bibles like robots."

This "three Bibles" seems to have become a bit of a mantra, but, while it hardly helps to refute the brainwashing charge, it would be uncharitable to suggest it was anything more than a standard response to the criticism, a sort of self-defence mechanism.

The anger at the attacks turned to relief that Emmanuel was finally getting attention, then anger again when they were still being misrepresented, and finally resignation, presumably tempered with a certain amount of satisfaction that, while it may be getting a bad press, it still had 600 applications for 200 places. "People are still queuing up to get in," he adds. Nor does the King's Academy seem to have been affected: it has had to turn away 50 youngsters this year.

Emmanuel, and, by extension, the King's Academy, is not about brainwashing, but about developing passion, Mr McQuoid says, encouraging children to believe in something, even if they end up upsetting someone. "People say we're brainwashing kids - if we were we would be more successful," he jokes.

He says pupils are presented with what the Bible says, "everybody should have the right to read it", but can reject it if they want. "It is there, it is something the children are aware of." On the creation debate, he says it's a leap of faith to believe in evolution, just as it's a leap of faith to believe in God. For himself, he says, "I find evolution hard to believe."

He says it's like a parent who tells their children about the dangers of alcohol. In the end, you have to accept that the decision to drink is theirs.

"Although there might be a calling for a Christian to share their faith with other people, the only genuine faith position is the one they come to themselves. Of course, I would want my children to share the faith I have, but I can never hit it into them. The best I can do is equip them to make their choices. Schools should be about getting you through life, not just getting you a job."

Few people would argue with that, although it doesn't mean everyone is happy with the path Mr McQuoid and his benefactor are taking.