(Sedbergh, Age 14)
Five-Year Diary: I wake early and try to revise Chemistry before breakfast. I go to Matron for some Algipan—my back’s been playing up again. I’m not sure why. Could be swimming with the wrong technique, or lifting trunks, or just mucking around. I pack my things, using Swampy’s bag, and pick up a book.
Then it hits me—I haven’t done the written prep for Chemistry. I can’t work out why I’d forget. Had I not written it down? Or am I just not interested enough in Chemistry to care?
I try to keep revising in Chapel (congregation practice), making better use of the time, but Cox tells me to stop. It’s frustrating—yet again, my time isn’t my own.
The Chemistry test goes badly. Maybe prayer would be more effective than revision? Afterwards we do an experiment on acids, which doesn’t improve things.
Swimming Gala: we get a hire bus over to Tyneside. I sit with Olly Douglas—a Newcastle lad, a year above me, in a different house, but swimming the same races.
I read Villains of Peace on the way. I feel the cold, see the snow, and get caught up in the family rift in 12th-century England – Normans still fighting over their possessions.
I came fourth in the freestyle. The RGS swimmers train with Newcastle Centurions—they’re County standard club swimmers. I first trained in this RGS pool we’re competing in with Mr Tunstall when I was eight. I even joined the Newcastle club, but once I was sent away to boarding school, my training hours disappeared. I feel that.
We won the two relays, though, which makes up for it a bit.
The tea at the RGS isn’t up to much —not up to Sedbergh standards at all. When teams come to us, we have a proper tea in the cricket pavilion—sandwiches, cake, the works.
Olly’s sister is there. We’re always interested in girls. Sisters are a safe bet if you can organise an introduction.
We get chips on the way back—something different, a bit of light relief from school life.
I borrow 38p from Carr. We cover for each other all the time
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