Five-Year Diary: I was up early because there was no one to stop me. The cubes were quiet—sixteen boys, fourteen or fifteen, breathing behind wooden partitions. The faint creak of metal beds. Someone turning over. The smell. A cough. Light already pushing through the high windows, grey and cold over the fells.
I read for a bit. Suedehead—as far from public school boys as you could get. That was always the escape. A book gave shape to the morning before the day properly began.
Chemistry: crystals. Acids and salts. It sounds promising—colour, transformation, a hint of danger—but turns into copying notes about solubility and watching things evaporate too slowly to care. Still, there’s something in it. Order. Process. If you get it right, something forms.
French prep.
English—letters back. I read Pyramus. Completely over the top. Takes forever to die. Everyone would laugh if this were a school play. Stupid but funny. Bottom thinks he’s brilliant. Probably meant to.
Break. Coffee. Weak, slightly burnt, but grown-up. That mattered.
A note from Mum. A pound note in a card.
Spent it in bits. Didn’t last.
Grubber: Mars Bar, crisps, chewits. Gone almost immediately.
Saved some for town. Spa—fruit, fig rolls, chocolate spread.
Newsagents—stood there ages. Looked at along the top shelves but didn’t have nerve for Knave or Mayfair . And too old for comics. I ended up with a skiing magazine, even though I wasn’t going to La Plagne this Easter.
Lunch then a run.
Lift out to Cautley, dropped up the valley, then run back. Relief not to do the whole thing out. Resentment at being left there in the cold with no choice but to get back. I overtook J.C.
Back to the Project Centre. Used the lathe. It didn’t help. I’m rubbish at metal work.
Supper.
Into town to use the public phone box – the only way to phone homr. Chalky, Bugs and PJ were hanging about after me. I’d made a thing of ringing my girlfriend. Took ages to get through. Coins going.
Got through—she wasn’t back.
Her older sister answered. I thought she might play along. She did. Said it was unfortunate I was stuck in Sedbergh as her parents were away and she could do with help looking after Silky.
Julie-Anne came on. Miffed I only had 3p left. Asked about Easter. Asked what was on at the flicks. Agreed we’d go and see Logan’s Run. Said everyone fancied Jenny Agutter. Even her dad.
Line went dead.
Watched ‘A Man for All Seasons’. Slow. Talky. Men in robes speaking carefully about conscience. Sat through it because you had to. Still—something in it. Holding a line. Quietly.
Swimming after. House Relays. Loose.
I got us into first. Next swimmer was fine. Third was still on the side fiddling with his goggles and missed it completely.
That was that.
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