BOARDING SCHOOL

The way the words “boarding school” were arrived at I could not really work out; there seemed to be something else mixed in with the idea of boarding school. All that I could understand was that the recent event had something to do with the school I was now going to join, and I would stay there until I was eleven.

There was the hint that the other boys I would be at school with also had some little problems before joining the school, so I should not tease them or upset them in any way. Going to a different school did not seem to be such a good idea; for the rest of the day until I went to bed, I spent my time begging to stay and pleading that I would be good.

The next day arrived and events were on the move for me. From a book that had been read to me some time ago, I had thought that you left with all your clothes and a school uniform; all I was taking with me were a few toys. It appeared that a school uniform and everything else I would need would be waiting for me. In a way I was quite happy; shopping for school clothes had never been one of the best ways to spend a day.

I was reassured that it would soon be the holidays and she would visit me. That normally at holiday time, one went home from boarding school, had not crossed my mind. My thoughts were more on what the other boys would be like.

My mother had arranged for someone to collect us and take us into town. The moments up until I left the flat were spent being reminded to visit the lavatory, wash my face, and clean my nails. Finally, the car arrived. I was not scared about starting at my new school, but the sudden decision for me to go had been a little upsetting. For most of the journey, I cried. On reaching town, I had to try and make it look that I was not afraid. We returned to the large office that we had visited the previous day.

Some time was spent by the adults explaining what my new school would be like. Most of the boys were aged between eight and eleven, and a few boys that were almost eight. As my birthday was a few weeks away, there would be plenty of boys of my own age to play with.

From what I had understood, I could guess I was in some sort of trouble. Over the years, my mother had always threatened that if I was a bad boy, there were schools that you were sent to until you were very good. The adults tried to explain that I was not going to this school because I was bad; they thought that I might find a school like this a happier place, as there would be boys of my own age to be with all the time.

My mother would not be taking me to the school; it was best if I was collected by the staff and taken to my new school. There was a hug from my mother and I was told that soon she would be able to visit me. It all depended on how much improvement my grandmother made over the next few weeks.

I was off to my new school. Other than the driver I was the only one in the small van. As a treat, I was allowed to sit at the front instead of the seats in the main part of the van. I might have seemed quiet and sad. In an effort to cheer me up, I was told that the boys no longer wore chains and our clothing no longer had arrows painted on them. It appeared that this was a joke.

I was told that now the school was just like an ordinary boy’s boarding school. A short time ago, it had been run on similar lines to a Junior Boy’s Approved School, but recently it had become more relaxed as to whom it took in. The rules were the same: no going out of the grounds and I should obey the instructions of the adults; if I followed those two simple rules then I should find my stay all right. We arrived at the school after a short ferry crossing; I expected to see a school surrounded with high stone walls or barbed wire and a strong gate at the entrance. There were none of these. Fields and hedges surrounded the large building and even the entrance had no gate, simply a long drive, similar in length to where I had just left.

I was taken through the main entrance where a lady who introduced herself as Matron met me; I might have looked a little scared of my new surroundings. I was reassured that the place was not as bad as it seemed; there would be some boys of my own age to make friends with. I was now left alone with Matron.

The first thing was to have a look at the possessions I had with me. It was explained that a few items like knives and cigarettes were not allowed. It was mainly the older boys who seemed to have those, but to make it fair all of us had to follow the same rules.

Now I was taken to a small side room. If I ever wanted to find her, this was where I should first come. When she was not on duty, there was another lady whom I also should address as Matron. Any problems other than matters to do with lessons, I should come to see either of them first.

My bag of toy cars was put on the table, sorted through; there appeared to be nothing that I should not have. Next Matron asked what I had in my pockets. One by one, everything I possessed was checked over; my mother had done a thorough job of removing any non-essential object from my possession before we left. I was now told that I could leave my bag of toys and raincoat here for the moment as I was just in time for lunch. When that was over my clothes and which dorm I was going to be in could be sorted out. I followed matron along a corridor and was shown where the boy’s lavatory was. There was a mention that a good wash of my hands was required as an inspection was often made before we sat down to meals.

Soon cleaned up I was escorted to the dining room; an orderly queue was forming close to the door. I was taken past the queue; several boys of around my age were near the head of the group. Matron singled one boy out and suggested that he should look after me during lunch, and then bring me to her afterwards.

The nearest boys soon asked my name and how old I was. Within moments it was worked out that I was the third youngest: the three of us would become eight the following month. The main conversation was on the food. Most days it seemed to be all right, Mondays were the worst with liver at lunchtime.

My main question was how many boys there were at this school. I was now told that in our lower form there were eleven; with me it would make twelve. In the middle form there were about fifteen and the upper form had eight. It was best to keep out of their way as they could bully at times.

Everyone wore grey shirts with grey pullovers. I stood out a little – although my jumper was grey, I had a white shirt on. The main conversation turned to what I had done to be sent here; eventually they persuaded me to tell them that the adults had accused me of trying to push a friend under a bus. I was asked was there much blood; they seemed most disappointed when I explained that my friend had fallen onto the pavement and the bus had stopped some distance away.

Those that were close explained why they had been sent here. One had set fire to a barn, another kept running out of schools, one of them did not get on with his parents, and there were several other reasons that seemed similar to mine. The adults did not believe what we ever told them, and did not like the mischief we got up to. The two boys that were younger than me had come here a month ago. They told me that they liked this place better than ordinary school.

I soon settled into the school and was quite happy; that I was going to be here for the next three years was not really upsetting, as I knew I was going to gets visits from my mother.

At night, I shared a room with five other boys of my age. Life was fun, and Matron was far more relaxed over our behaviour than my mother would have been. Lessons were a little stricter, and possibly our movements around the building and grounds were rather too restrictive; but there was still plenty of excitement.

Within a few days of my arrival, lessons finished and some of the older boys left to go on their holidays. Christmas was enjoyable with just twenty boys. We did get up to some mischief for which we were punished. I managed to get the cane on two occasions by the time lessons started in the New Year, but was equal to most of my friends over this matter. To me everything seemed to be fine. The Christmas holidays with other boys to play with had been far better than last Christmas, as I had received several presents from the school as well as my mother.

In the second week of term, Matron told me that I was going to leave and return to my mother. I was taken to see the Headmaster; he seemed to confirm that I was to leave the school. He hoped I would be able to settle back at school and that during my short stay here I had been happy.

A flood of tears by me was not something that had been expected by the Matron. To return to my mother was something I did want, but I was happy here; there were friends around me all the time, and apart from the older boys who could be bullies at times, life here was fun.

Matron took me out of the room, explaining that I would have to gather up some of my clothes to go home with, and that there were the toys in my locker that needed to be collected. My locker was dealt with first. Everything was neatly packed into a small box. I was asked if I had borrowed toys belonging to any of the others or if any other boy had something of mine, but every toy that was mine was inside the box.

In the dorm, I was now told to change into my white shirt. A small suitcase was next to my bed. Matron now started to fill my case with a selection of clothes from the drawers. I was told to take my best raincoat from the wardrobe; she wanted me to look smart when I returned to my mother. Whilst Matron carried my case downstairs, I was left with my box of toys. I was taken to the main hall. The car would be ready to collect me soon.

Compared with ordinary school, it seemed we were expected to act in a much more responsible manner, but life was not that bad. There seemed almost the challenge that although you did not aim to be naughty, there was fun to see what you could get away with. Apart from being one of the youngest and having to keep out of the way of the older boys, it had been quite good. If I had stayed there for more time, I might have found the lessons the worst part.

The reason I could leave the school was down to my version of the events that happened before going to the boarding school were now believed. A lady who had been in the sweet shop when we had both purchased the sweets had seen that we were happy together. When she found out that I had been accused of fighting and I had tried to push the boy into the road, she had spoken up and mentioned that we had left the sweet shop on good terms, and were sharing the sweets out.

The information of what really happened emerged during the first few days of my stay at the boarding school. It was decided to leave me there during the Christmas holidays, as it was not certain that my mother would be able to look after me, as she might been called back to London at very short notice to look after her mother. If my mother was soon going to return to London to live permanently, it was thought best that I now left the school.

Continued

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