Fifty years ago: Wednesday, 12th May 1976
(Sedbergh School, Winder House. Age 14)
Five-Year Diary: I slept in, something I only do if I’d had the foresight to go to sleep with something over my eyes – otherwise I am woken by the morning light. I’m also hypersensitive to noises through the night: boys getting up, snoring, talking in their sleep or an asthmatic wheeze.
English: I used another boy’s notes and shared his book. We work through the Tolpuddle Martyrs – nothing especially stirring. I don’t understand why we take all term to read a book I could have read over the weekend? Just another filler class dragging out the term.
French: Mécanismes. I had no idea about them then, and I’m non the wiser fifty years on. Though I speak and comprehend French with approximate fluency. No thanks to any school lesson.
Divinity: Herod and Magi, Born to be King. Another total waste of my time. I no longer think of myself as Christian and don’t believe in gods.
Break: scones. Coffee spilt in the cupboard. There was collective blame and responsibility until it was cleaned out – a junior boy or ‘fag’ was given the task.
Latin: go over passages. I’m quitting Latin for German. I’d prefer to study art as a subject, but it’s not permitted.
Music: I get three maps for laughing. L.M. unimpressed. being flippant. There was no challenge or interest. I could read music, sight-read and play the flute and piano. This all-comers introduction to classical music was supposed to feed our minds as the sons of middle-class professionals. It doesn’t land like that. I misbehave when I am bored. I’d prefer to learn rock guitar and study contemporary music – not a chance.
Biology: annual plants, perennials. Cycles, distinctions—clearer than most things that day.
English: The teacher, Roger the Dodger, is late. I read Dark Inferno by James White. Astronauts stranded near Jupiter, their ship crippled, left to survive. escape, restitution, being left to survive by your own wits. It all resonated with me, and the stories in the world would one day be written.
Swim: The pool is currently unheated. It is cold – like the outdoor pool at Mowden. I’m asthmatic, as yet undiagnosed. Cold water and I did not go well together unless I acclimatised. You get in because you have to, and your breathing quietly struggles before it gives in.
Supper.
Preps.
Phone home: Then into town to the phone box. 2p Coins ready. Ring Mum – she confirms when she’s coming over. For Mum to come over from Gosforth was a big ask. It was 90 miles and took a couple of hours. She preferred to stay overnight rather than drive back the same day. My younger sister had to be looked after, usually by our grandparents. It would have been nice to see her. I think she may have come over on an open day or Fete Day. My older sister, who is 18, came over once, and everyone thought she was my girlfriend. A couple of prefects wanted to write to her.
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