On returning to my mother. It was suggested by her that I did not tell anyone about my few weeks away. If I was asked about not being around, I should say I had been on holiday and leave it at that.
On returning to the school in the village, there were now a few weeks of what seemed ordinary school. There were changes in my free time; I was still allowed to walk to school on my own. After school I was now always met at the gates by my mother, and had to walk home with her. Going out to play with my friends did not happen now and none of them came to visit me.

At school, I was not very happy; I missed the fun of boarding school. During lessons, I did not really take much interest in what was going on around me. At playtime, I was kept indoors, and allowed to read books of my own choice, whilst the others were out at play.
My unhappiness with school during my last week there resulted in a couple of wet beds at night, and back to the plimsoll from my mother.
There was the warning that now I was eight, in future I would receive the cane instead of my plimsoll if I wet the bed. Moving to London the following week solved the matter of my school unhappiness and the need for the cane.

  During my time at boarding school, my mother had prepared for our return to London. Throughout our stay, we had accumulated quite a few possessions in excess of the two cases we had arrived with. As our return journey was probably by coach and train, our possessions needed to be reduced to a similar amount.

My mother had been ruthless with my things, it was with the thought that I had either grown out of many items of clothing and toys or they would have little use in London.
There was never the case of my clothing or toys having any major value; in many instances they had come from the local jumble sales. Our distance from the centre of the village meant that it would be difficult to pass items on.
The bonfire at the end of the garden took anything that could be burnt; with the isolation of the house, refuse collections were always a slight problem.

The few metal cars I had left here had been put safe whilst I was away. I did not really miss all my other toys or books that were too bulky to take back to London.
There was one item of my clothing that I was angry about that was missing; it was that my mother had put my riding boots on the bonfire, as they would not be needed in London. My anger resulted in a trip to my bedroom and a couple of hits with the plimsoll.

Once the clothing I brought from the boarding school was added to the clothes that were ready for my return to London, there was now a selection of best and school clothes, and one set of respectable play clothes.
On my last few visits to the farm, I managed to ruin the set of play clothes together with my school shoes and a duffle coat.
The day before we left, after a few final hits with my plimsoll, I was made to take all the clothes I had ruined down to the bottom of the garden and arrange one final bonfire.
Such a major clearout of my clothes and possessions was not really needed in the end. Instead of travelling on our own, an uncle came over to take us in his car.

RETURN TO LONDON – FEBRUARY 1965

I was happy at the age of eight in returning to London; soon I was settled into a new school. The large size was a little frightening at first, simply being one of the youngest but there were plenty of things to do, and I was quite happy for most of the time.

I was in trouble with one of the teachers at lunch break. A few of the older boys had decided to fill the sinks in the outside lavatory block with water and let them overflow.
The plugs to the sinks had long ago vanished; all the sinks plugholes were filled with scraps of paper to stop the water running away. When the sinks partly filled, the paper would start to rise, allowing the water to run away.
Extra pairs of hands were needed to keep the basins filling. I had come out of one of the cubicles and found myself with the instruction to help them.

As it was a chance of mischief, I became an easy member of their gang. With all the taps running at the same time, the flow of water was not that fast, slowly the sinks at the far end started to overflow first.
The older boys were hopping about trying to keep their shoes or plimsolls from getting soaked; like the younger boy at the next sink, we did not have these problems as we wore wellingtons. We were too busy watching the others to notice a teacher enter. We were the nearest to him and had continued to hold our wads of paper in our sinks as he walked behind us.

The six of us were removed from the lavatories in seconds. It was a quick march to the main building and the Headmaster’s office. Waiting outside the office took forever; the teacher had gone inside to report our activity.
The older four were trying to frighten the pair of us, mentioning that he normally gave out harsh punishments.
Our conversations ended at that moment and we were beckoned inside. There was little chance given to us to explain our actions; as we had all been caught flooding the floor, there was little we could have said to clear our names.

The instruction to hold out each of our hands was given by the Headmaster. I was the second to be dealt with; it was one stroke on each hand. We were soon in tears. The older ones did not reach this stage, but as soon as they had been given the cane, it was clear to see it had really hurt.
There was one final instruction for us not to be caught messing about again and we were sent on our way. The four older boys rushed off, probably to boast to their friends about their latest deed. The two of us younger ones headed to a quiet area to be out of attention of any of our friends, so that we had a chance to hide the fact we had been in tears.
We were still looking for trouble and headed back to the lavatories to see how soaked the floor was. There was little to see as the slight slope of floor had solved the problem of the water that had overflowed from the sinks, I had made a new friend.

At afternoon lessons in my class, I was able to show off the red mark on each of my hands. My status was going up in their estimation. To be given the cane in the first year of primary school meant I was high up in the league of crime. When I returned home, I did not say anything to my mother about getting the cane at school.

 Living conditions in the flat were not ideal for a small boy, who was perhaps a little energetic and at times could get in the way.
I thought everything was running smoothly and I was quite happy to have come back to London, but this did not last for long. My mother announced that I was going to live in the country with other boys and girls of my own age; I was told that the new boarding school would be friendlier, as I would be living with just six other children as part of a family.

I don’t think the words ‘Children’s Home’ were ever uttered; if they had, I might have taken immediate notice and made more of a fuss. As I was told my aunts and uncles lived quite close to my new home and they would be able to visit me, I did not offer any protest. I was even looking forward to the move.

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Continued

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