All work and no play....

By now he was progressing up the school and academic work became increasingly pressing!  It’s a funny thing, brains; he had been in the bottom group all his school days but he wasn’t thick. But what was he and why did he find school work difficult, well not all but most!

His father had won a place to Grammar school and his brother passed exams with ease but when it came to him? Maybe he just didn’t care, but he did, maybe he didn’t try, but he did, maybe he didn’t see the point, just maybe…?

Ever since he had started school he had been popular and was happy with his friends, he enjoyed being happy and that was enough for him.  In the beginning it was enough for School and Teachers too but as his career in education developed it was almost as if it was too much and some Teachers didn’t like to see him happy and started to make comments on his reports that didn’t bother him but maybe got through to his parents!

At primary school he had been liked and popular; “it’s not a party unless he’s there...” they would say and he was happy. Then at Prep school he did well at sport, loved the atmosphere and was told, “you will either make the front or the back page of the newspapers!” and he was happy! When he thought back he realised it was at secondary school that the rot set in!

At first he was happy, although he was still in the bottom stream, he had made friends, IG was there, he was beginning to learn to play rugby and he thought things would continue as before.  But then he noticed a subtle change, nothing too much but a change all the same; if you were in the bottom stream you were thick or trouble or both and the Teachers treated you differently. 

It was the first time that he had been told, “You are different from your bother aren’t you?” which he thought was a stupid statement as of course he was different! But he came to realise the statement was actually,” Why can’t you be like your brother?”

Added to this was that he always saw the fun in situations and this did not go down well in the class and so he found himself in detention and so it would go; and he was not happy.

They say there are two ways to get noticed, be clever or trouble and as he was patently not clever what else could he do?!

He did try but so many subjects were either difficult or dry and boredom was the result; he had always found concentration difficult and these people certainly didn’t help.  He liked English and PE both of which he thought were useful but it seemed to the adults that only one of these was acceptable and any aptitude in PE just confirmed their view of his intellectual capabilities. So with this academic versus sport conundrum already to the fore he carried on.

In the Lower school were he began his secondary education he was his most unhappy; he found the work tedious, the discipline unnecessary and the PE and sport unfulfilling.

He had always relied on his sporting prowess to see him through and it still did in a way but the adults began to pick holes; at rugby, his favourite, he was often blamed when his team lost as he played at fly-half and was expected to win matches, and he did more often than not, so he was really upset when he was the only one, unlike his two best friends, who did get their colours at the end of term. Oh well, there was athletics and cricket in the summer to make up for his disappointment. The athletics went OK and he won races, the sprints as well as the long jump and throwing the cricket ball.

The cricket was a repeat of the rugby, he was lead bowler and once took 7 wickets for 6 runs and batted with some success, if not finesse, too; however he remembers against one school were the batting had collapsed, and for some reason he had been promoted to opening for the school and, apparently the collapse was his fault as the on the way to lunch the next day the Teacher asked, “What did you think you were doing?”

Well trying my best actually, I never professed to be an opening bat and you put me there so what did you think you were doing?

Needless to say he didn’t get his cricket colours either! So he embarked on his upper school career being thought thick, had almost been expelled and his sporting efforts had been trashed!
Surely things would improve…..

Reports and going to war......

  If he was to do anything with his life he needed some support! However reflecting on some of the comments he had received over the years he was not sure from where that support would be coming.

At primary school he had received a final comment of “...will make the front or back pages of the Newspapers.” Now, you can look at these comments in two ways either, he was to be famous or notorious, and he liked to think, even at this age, he was a little bit of both! These reputation-al comments were to follow him throughout his educational experience; at his preparatory Boarding school he was to receive the type of encouragement that has made this nation such good losers, “…he seems to believe that Sport is all that matters; we do not share his view.” No wonder we have been so good at coming second for so long with this attitude, surely if someone shows aptitude in anything they should be encouraged not put down?

Things did not improve at secondary school with comments ranging from the derogatory, “guttersnipe” to the faintly encouraging, “thick but decent!” both of which may have had an element of truth, but were hardly the comments to give as a reference or build a career on!!  Although by College things had improved somewhat and he felt that maybe things were looking up he was to be brought down again by the farewell comment of one of his tutors, “You know, you would have got on better if you had cooperated more” a comment that left him with the feeling that, yet again, he had disappointed others without being aware of it himself. But this was still in the future and, for the moment, he had other things to concern him.

One of these was the Combined Cadet Force or CCF that he, along with every other boy, enjoyed or endured, depending on your view, every Thursday afternoon. From the start he knew it was not for him; to begin with he was not into dressing up, then there was the mundane drills, the pointless exercises and, worst of all, those who enjoyed it and gave him orders; something he had always had difficulty with. It seemed to him that if you were academic and spotty you did well in the CCF and if you were sporty and normal you did not! There were to be frequent run-ins with authority in the form of spotty bespectacled nerds who, for the rest of the week were insignificants, but who, for these few hours, thought they had the power to get one over on the “normals”. He was determined not to give in to them even if it meant, and it often did, running around the play/parade ground with a rifle above his head swearing to himself that he would seek revenge. Unfortunately there were staff who also partook in this charade and, with one exception, they too were the academic/spotty type who had little authority in the classroom and like the pupil officers, tried to find authority via a third party, the armed forces.

In this gloom there was the odd shaft of light; each year there was an annual inspection when the school paraded for some visiting minor dignitaries who had a spurious association with the Military. However, one of these was a father of a friend and he used to brighten up the day with a wink and a friendly smile!  Also, the University students across the road used to come out, awakened no doubt by the Band, to watch and join in with dustbin lids and other non-military noises to try and drown the noise!  The other enjoyable time was when he went up to Queensferry in Scotland with the naval section, a section he had joined as it had a reputation for being less strict, for the annual camp. It was different in so much as you were under the jurisdiction of real service personnel and treated as young adults rather than an extension of the person you were at school. One occasion summed up his attitude to the CCF and showed his priorities; he and another lad Ray, went into the local area during free time and found a café with a jukebox and some local girls. A good time was had by all and when it came time to return to barracks they stayed on listening to such classics as Speedy Gonzales rather than meet the curfew! However, the time came when they had to return and, knowing they were in trouble, they concocted a story on the way back that they had been set on by local yobs and, to add authenticity to their account, they scraped their knuckles on the road and ruffed themselves up a bit! On arrival they gave their account of the trouble they had encountered and how they had had to fight their way out and, whilst you could tell the Regulars were somewhat sceptical, the schoolmasters bought it; maybe they were just relieved of their return!  So they got away with it and lived off the story for a good while.

But that was to be the end of his military service as soon after the school introduced a get-out policy for disaffected pupils and he was one, if not the first, to opt out and spend his Thursday afternoons in more productive ways…

Reality!

   Maybe it was his upbringing, but why that should be eluded him, maybe it was the time, for this was the 60’s, maybe it was his age, slowly growing through his teenage years or maybe it was just him but he never seemed to bother about loyalty were girls were concerned!

The thing was he had a reputation, quite unjustly like most reputations, but one built on stories, mainly his own, about exploits and conquests; once one has a reputation you tend to live up to it; and so he did. Being an all boy’s school the opportunities for sexual encounters were limited, although there was a healthy undercurrent of activity between boys, mainly confined, but not exclusive to the Boarders. He never actually took part but was tempted by one boy in particular, RH who had gained a reputation as a boyfriend of one or two senior boys and had his attractions! It is funny how quickly we condemn behaviour that is deemed different, yet when in the situation of no other readily available alternative, attitudes and behaviours can soon change. He spent a lot of time in R’s company both in and out of school but nothing happened and as they both grew up they grew apart and went their separate ways; but he was never to condemn nor condone so called abhorrent behaviour again, but rather become less accusatory and more tolerant. However, girls were a different matter as his reputation demanded action!

At parties he found himself attracted to girls that belonged to others or at least were going out with someone either short or in some cases long term; this can easily be explained by the fact that he had a reputation but no girlfriend!

There was one occasion at a party when a friend T, who was a lovely guy and  had a steady girlfriend, was not there or at least late arriving so he took advantage and was snogging and groping away with her and to be fair she wasn’t resisting, if anything she was taking the lead, but her friends were saying, “What’s T going to say?” and “I thought you and T were going out?” etc. all aimed at malicious gossip, it was only his reputation as a bit of a hard nut  and hers as a nice girl that stopped the story getting to T’s ears!  Anyway a good time was had.

He took up with a girl soon after that was a little older and was working and the combination of age, albeit a couple of years and working gave the allusion of experience, and he hoped to gain some of this experience whilst enhancing his reputation! Despite some good times this proved to be an unfounded dream, she was a nice girl and they had fun together but the illusive “experience” was still just a fantasy!

His school life continued apace with little work, lots of sport and some fun; a great combination. He was beginning to have the first stirrings about what he was going to do after school; this had been brought into sharp contrast as he nearly had to leave as his father was made redundant, necessitating a family crisis. He went as far as looking for jobs in Liverpool. He had always liked motorbikes, indeed he had told the lie that he had one, so it was natural that if he couldn’t have one that  he should consider working in a garage to be near them.

His father was a representative for a flooring company that either had gone bust or had lain off staff, whatever for the first time in his experience the family had to consider the way they lived, as money was suddenly not readily available.  His father asked him to cash in his savings to help; this he did readily without understanding the repercussions but it made him realise the seriousness of the situation and he felt he was directly doing something to alleviate the immediate problem.

But danger was averted, as within a month or so his father got a new job, ironically the best he had ever had, and a new prosperity arrived for the family.

Again, he had no worries so why should anything change….?

First stirrings...

  When things changed he was unaware of the impact it would have on his life; he was about to find other interests than sport and theft! These were, in no particular order, well to be honest it is a particular order; girls, booze, parties and life! Girls were about to take over, or at least equal sport, booze had been around but now became more available and parties were the link that led to a new life, one that was suddenly thrust upon him and which he enthusiastically embraced.

He was at school in Liverpool, a place that was fast becoming the music capital of the world, but it also had great football, he supported Liverpool, great pubs, clubs and unlimited opportunities for a young lad eager to learn.  School was never his raison d’être but more a means to an end; friends, fun and freedom!  He had made good friends, some of whom had stood up for him and saved his bacon with Authority like A; others who gave him confidence to be himself like C and others who showed him what was available and possible. He stayed with A most weekends rather than go home and his parents didn’t seem to mind. Now as we have learned A had a special family, different, almost Bohemian and he revelled in it. He could smoke, drink and was almost encouraged to mix with the opposite sex!  A’s sister was great she shared girl information and although he pretended to know, he was in fact innocent of such matters, so he listened and learned!  The weekends were great; he was away from home, with friends and happy as there seemed to be a party of some sorts most weekends too.  This was a time for him to put his dreams into practice.  The confidence he had accrued enabled him to try things he maybe shouldn’t or wouldn’t have otherwise!

Postman’s knock was big back then and he loved it; what did it matter if you didn’t always strike luck with the prettiest girl, they were all ok and you could practise your technique, which let’s be honest wasn’t up to much, so it most likely was lucky he wasn’t with the one he had hoped to be with as she would have been disappointed!  But he persevered and got better, once he learned French kissing and the art of using his tongue he really started to enjoy these brief encounters in a cupboard, behind a door or in a corner. He was always thought of as a sport because he would go with any girl whilst in reality he was glad of the opportunity to learn and quickly discovered that the best looking girls were not necessarily the best kissers and others had much more enthusiasm and technique; a lesson that he never forgot!  A’s sister was a good example: she took a shine to him and was happy to share her considerable experience with him in a intimate manner, despite being several years older and engaged.

A typical Saturday night would involve getting ready together, leaving the house, having a smoke and discussing what lay ahead.  Once you arrived it was a matter of getting a drink, usually beer, saying hello to those people you knew and hanging around until the action started often accompanied with giggling and awkwardness! When you were chosen you went off together and either had a quick peck if she didn’t fancy you or a long wet entwining of tongues, sometimes accompanied by sucking noises and more giggles before you went back into the room to either nods and admiring looks or silence and sympathy! If you were lucky you might persuade the girl to stay with you and after a while the others realised what had happened and continued the game without you.

At the end of the evening you usually went back home with your mates, all bragging about your success or making excuses for your failure but just happy to be together in the moment, young, happy and carefree.

This was the life he enjoyed out of school and he loved it but love of course doesn’t always run smoothly….

Big School!

   Moving up to Senior School held no fears for him, it was just more of the same in a different place!  He was still in the bottom set; still good at sport, still fairly popular and still couldn’t give a stuff for school rules. He had a new blazer badge, was in a new set of buildings, just up the road from the other part of the school, had new teachers, although you would never have known it and was in the attic!

It seemed strange that those who needed most support by the fact they were in the lowest set, were given the worst surroundings and were packed away in a classroom at the top of this old house, all we had was a window out onto the roof; you had to approach it via a long winding wooden staircase, so at least you could hear people approaching, which came in handy at times!

He was now twelve, nearly thirteen, and had built up a reputation, not only amongst his pals as a good “sport”, someone to have a go and laugh with, but also amongst the Staff as being, as one teacher put it, “Thick but decent!” Now that’s quite important as although he wasn’t thick, he hadn’t yet caught the fire of learning, that would come later; but to be thought of as decent seemed to him good as most, but not all, teachers saw him as OK and he could settle for that.

In the Junior school he had had a foray into the Scouts, it seemed like a good idea but lasted less than a term as he found it boring, especially as most of his mates were not in it but mainly because he had to wear a uniform, more of that later, and it was on a Saturday afternoon and that was not on! His Saturday afternoons would be filled with Matches, Rugby, Hockey and Cricket, from now on, a much better proposition.

Life in the upper echelons began slowly; he would have assembly, and wondered what the point was? Go to lessons, then Break, and a sneak to the bushes for a fag, more lessons, lunch, maybe another ciggie and a run around, usually football using a tennis ball, more lessons and finally home. The journey home on the bus took well over an hour and initially IG was with him and wouldn’t let him take his cap off until they crossed the border, which was the river. This was either negotiated via the Ferry, if he was alone as it took longer and he enjoyed the fresh air and the sights or, more commonly, via the Underground Train. Then it was another bus journey of about fifty minutes before a walk from the Bus Stop home. Quite a marathon and plenty of time to get into mischief!

The problem was that IG was in the higher stream, was good at exams and never got into trouble; whilst he was in the bottom stream, hated exams and, well you get the picture! He had gone to this, a fee paying school, because his Uncle had gone there and his brother before him, so people expected him to be clever too! If he had counted the times he was told,” Why aren’t you like your brother?” he would have wasted a great deal of time! But he wasn’t he was what he was and quite happy with that but people, especially Teachers want to compartmentalise you. Anyway, that’s why he had to keep his cap on until they were out of sight!  So day followed day and most of the time he kept his nose clean or at least wasn’t caught!
But in some ways, this was the lull before the storm and, as he found his feet, both in and out of school, things were about to change….

A close escape...

His life at school was never dull, far from it, with most fun, If not all, taking place outside the classroom!  He had two really good but different friends; C who was a rebel and A, who was also a rebel, but a different type of rebel!  C was small, quite cute I suppose in a rebel sort of way and introduced him to skipping lessons, hair gel & fun whilst A brought with him cigarettes, drinking and a bohemian way of life.

A was perhaps the one person who, above all others, he associated with both in reality and philosophically; he was a little bit older, taller and certainly more worldly. His family were a revelation! They were in many ways an archetypal family, Dad who worked in town, Mum who stayed at home and a sister who was older than A and about to get married.  However, that’s were the normal ended as far as he was concerned! They introduced him to a whole new life, one of excitement, intrigue and above all freedom.

He & A would be left to their own devices most of the time and as long as they were careful and didn’t cause any problems they were left alone; now nothing is better for two young boys in Liverpool than to be left in peace. It was as if the world was at their feet and they were on the first rung of a ladder that led to Utopia. But more of that later…

For the moment it was the freedom that led to problems, although it is unfair of him to place the blame at anyone’s door but his own, as he was the one who shoplifted!  A and him, together with another boy at school and, I suspect most of the other boys at some stage, used to take things every time they went into a shop, whether they needed to or not, just because they could; it could be anything from sweets to pens and from books to diaries or anything else that was in reach. He and A used to agree strategy, who was to steal and who was to casually walk around as if looking for something or even buy something as a decoy and it worked well. Maybe they became complacent, but whatever the reason A and the other boy got caught! Even though this was well before CCTV and other surveillance devices there were some shopkeepers who were more vigilant than others and I guess it was one of the eagle-eyed ones who reported A and his accomplice to the school. Possibly, as it was a fee-paying school, they took reported theft rather seriously and a rigorous investigation ensued!

He was rather worried as he had been involved with the others and, after his cigarette run-in with the school he didn’t need to be implicated in this latest scandal! He took A to one side and asked him not to tell on him and was relieved to be assured that he would not be mentioned. Just as well as it turned out as the other boy was expelled, having been involved in a previous incident, just like him, and A was publicly humiliated in front of the school at a special Assembly. As he stood there with the rest of the school listening to the Head belittle A he knew their friendship would stand anything and if he could, he would repay A for saving him from leaving the school in disgrace.

They went home together, smoked, laughed and looked to the future! What would it hold, as they were about to leave the confines of the Junior section for the uncertainty of the Upper school and all the excitement that implied; and excitement there was....

Lessons, Sport and Life!

His life at school settled into a pattern of lessons, which for the large majority were boring, sport which was, for the large, part good and break times which were always good! Unlike his brother, he was in the bottom or “C” steam, a group that was looked on with distaste by the majority of Teachers as the “thickies” but treated with respect by the other pupils as most of the “C” stream were the backbone of the sports teams and therefore well capable of looking after themselves, and others, if they got in the way!

His lessons were a struggle as you find that if your teacher’s have low expectations of what you can achieve you do not le them down. What is the point?  You were not going to go up a group as no one ever came down from the B stream; it wasn’t like the football divisions with promotion and relegations. No, if you were in the bottom stream the only way was stationary! He dabbled in Latin for a week or two and then his talent for languages was recognised and he gave it up; Maths was a nightmare, he didn’t get it and the Teacher didn’t get him so he played him up! He quite liked English, despite the teacher, and it was to become a favourite in later years, but that is still ahead.

Most of his Teacher’s were women or has-been men as the better staff were allocated to the top streams, so besides the one who he fancied, until the cigarettes incident, they were fat, ugly and useless; looking back now he can’t remember a Teacher at this time who made a positive impact on him. The closest were the PE and game’s staff but even they were nothing special. The PE teacher was a slight guy, who taught science and I think he thought PE was beneath him as I guess it had a low esteem in the academic staffroom. PE consisted of differing forms of circuit training and with all shapes and sizes in the class it was hard to get a median ability; but this did not put him off, especially when it came to demeaning someone. The climbing ropes were his speciality for ritual humiliation. We would line up at the bottom, holding a rope, waiting for the command, usually whispered,
“To the top, climb”

Now the dilemma began, you looked around to see who was in your group and, if you were all about the same ability there was no problem, you climbed to the top, waited and were told, “Come down”.

However if your group had a fat kid or a scrawny one, you were in trouble as on the call, “To the top, climb” you were torn between racing to the top as normal or taking it slowly as he would wait until everyone was at the top before letting you come back down. Now some never made it but that would not stop him,

“Do hurry up; can’t you see everyone’s waiting?”

We would be hanging there willing the stragglers to hurry up, but of course they couldn’t and we, and he, knew it! Just as you felt you couldn’t hang on any longer he’d call them, “pathetic” and let us down; no one blamed these kids they couldn’t do it and any way the teacher was a bastard and we stuck together; but there were times when it tried our loyalty!

Embarrassment was a common theme running through a lot of staff who took games sessions and if it was meant to galvanise him into better performance it did not work; only later when encouragement was introduced did he really begin to shine and become confident. He played well at most sports, he was in the cricket team as a fast bowler and a bit of a slogger with the bat; in athletics, he could run fast, with some success,  but rugby was his real love and he thought he was good too. Cricket brought him success, once taking seven wickets for six runs and scoring well with the bat; in athletics he won most sprint races, long jump and other field events too, but it was rugby he wanted to excel in. He was in the Team and whist playing at Fly-half he scored several tries and was the kicker for the team so accumulated the most points and was seen as a star by his fellow team players. However, when it came to the end of the season and colours were awarded he missed out and was devastated as all his mates had got them. The Teacher was an England International forward, a very good player but one who saw three-quarters as peripheral players, who got the glory for the forwards hard work and, worst of all, were fly-halves! So he left the junior section at the end of the year as an under achiever in both lessons and sport but with his reputation as a no-gooder in tact!

There was to be one more incident that almost ended his school career before it had really begun…

Secondary school...the end of the Affair!

By the time he was picked up, as usual by his father for the lift home, he had realised, by the reaction of the teachers, that he was in trouble and had formulated a plan so his parents need never know!  He was sure the school would want to share all the gory details, so he would stay at home for a couple of days and intercept the letter! He began working on the plan as soon as he got in the car.

“You’re quiet” his father said.

“Um I don’t feel too well!” he replied, and so the seeds were sown and by the time they arrived home he was really “poorly” and was certain to be able to stay home for a couple of days!

Of course with hindsight he would have realised that the school was too smart and either by good judgement or inefficiency did not send out a letter straight away and therefore after two days feigning illness he had an accelerated recovery and returned to school. In fact it was to be some days later when, after school, he approached his father’s car and sensed there was something wrong as his father looked like thunder and, as often the case with young children, he had forgotten the events of the last week, but the school had not!
“So tell me about the cigarettes” his father asked. He really had forgotten all about them and had thought maybe the school had decided not to write to his parents.

“What cigarettes?”

“Your mother has phoned and says we have received a letter from the school…” He didn’t hear the rest of the sentence as panic set in and he quickly tried to formulate an excuse.

“..And he says you continually lied about it”

“Yes but” he stammered.

“We are very disappointed in you”
There was nothing to be said, when you hear the words “very disappointed”  from your parents you realise you have let them down badly and that hurts more than the cane; these are the people who have brought you up, taught you right from wrong and you have let them down.

“I’m sorry” was all he could say.

It was not a good night for him as both his mother and father gave him the “disappointed” treatment! However, one of the best things about his parents was that they loved him and just wanted the best for him, so things got gradually better throughout the evening and by the next day he was even joking with his father again, as deep down his father was proud of him and even admired him for his spunk, if not his lies! The real turning point was a week or so later when things had returned to normal and everyone had forgotten the incident and he was having a bath; his mother walked in and squealed,

“Where did you get that?” Immediately, he panicked as there are too many things to which that can be the question, before he realised she was referring to his backside and the blue welts from the caning!

“Oh you poor thing, Dad come and look at this”

“Bloody hell” was all his father said, but it was enough to know he had their sympathy and the equilibrium in the family had been restored.

Secondary School cont..

On the way down, he looked around, saw that there was no one about and quickly bent down to retrieve the evidence, but it wasn’t there! His hand searched desperately, nothing; he looked underneath the lockers, again nothing; where could it be, what had happened?  With these thoughts swirling round his head, he got up and walked outside.

When he got outside, he saw his Dad waiting:

“Where have you been?” he asked as it was almost 5pm by now.

“Detention”
“What again, what did you do this time?”
“Oh, nothing really, just, you know…”

His father was used to this and seem to accept that he had been in trouble as usual, little did he know! But what had happened to the case, had he got the wrong locker, had it been knocked further underneath or had someone found it, surely not that!

As was his way, he slept well despite his concerns but, in the morning, he had a feeling in the pit of his stomach as he knew today was the day when he would get away with it or face the music, which was it to be?

The journey to school was unsurprising, neither he nor his father said much at this time of the day, each lost in their own thoughts, listening to the car radio. On arrival, he said cheerio to his dad as usual and was reminded not to be late tonight, as usual!

The day started as usual, nothing special, meeting up with mates, registration and Assembly and so into first lesson, English; so far so good maybe he had got away with it! There were lots of lessons he didn’t like but English was OK, he had started to take notice of a subject that would be his very being in years to come but, at this stage, he was not even aware of the stirrings. Part of the attraction was the teacher, as a pre-pubescent youngster he was beginning to notice older women and they had an effect on him that he was, as yet, unsure of, all he knew was that this teacher was married to an ugly chap, who taught Geography, and she deserved better and he…

He was suddenly aware of a knock at the door and the form of L coming into the room!
“I’m sorry to interrupt, but could I have a word with..?”

“Yes of course” I heard her say and realised who he had asked to see!

He walked out slowly and saw the Teacher look at him and then L, what did she know and was this it?

Stay cool, he could prove nothing!
The walk up to his study seemed to take ages, but was in fact only one flight of stairs; L was old now and walked slowly or maybe deliberately slowly for effect.

They reached his room, and went in; L went behind his desk whilst he stood in front. Nothing was said for a bit, dramatic effect again? He was feeling uncomfortable as I’m sure he knew. After what seemed a lifetime, he spoke:

“Yesterday I asked you about some cigarettes and you said you knew nothing about them, is that right?”
“Yes Sir”

“Are you sure?”
“Yes Sir”

There followed a pause, as he looked at him and then he went to his drawer and got out something, at first it was unclear, but then he put it on his desk! It was the cigarette case!

“What have you got to say?”
Now, he knows he’s not considered bright by the Staff, but even so he knew when he was done!
“Nothing”
“Nothing!”
“You lied to me constantly yesterday, you wasted my time and you say nothing?”
“Sorry, Sir”

“It’s a bit late for sorry…”

Now L always talked quietly, but not on this occasion as his voiced raised and the words came tumbling out it was obvious he was rather cross!! This went on for quite a bit and he realised he was in trouble and wished he had taken some precautions against what was surely the inevitable!

“.. And what about your parents, what will they think?”

He wasn’t thinking about them at the moment but rather what was going to happen to him! Then it came, the inevitable was going to happen, and they both knew it.

“I’m going to cane you, not for the cigarettes, but for the lies and deceit; bend over”

This was not the first time he had been caned, it was for him, a fairly regular occurrence, but this was special! Two, three surely not many more, five, just one more, then six, he began to straighten up.

“I haven’t finished yet, bend over” Has he lost count, six is it isn’t it?
Thwack, as the seventh stroke hit the back of his legs he really felt it and winced.

“Get up”

As he slowly straightened, he could really feel the pain for the first time and desperately wanted to cry but was determined not to; whatever it took, he was not going to let L see he had won.

“I hope that is a lesson to you, now go back to your class”
As he left the room and closed the door, he stopped and almost cried, the pain was really strong and he found it difficult to move. As he walked, slowly back to his lesson, he passed the locker where he had hid the case only a day before and where a Cleaner had found it, just his luck. He approached the door to his classroom, knocked, walked gingerly in, all eyes were on him, he mustn’t break down, he wouldn’t.

“Disgusting”

What, his trance like state had been broken by the Teacher:
“Disgusting” she said.

Now he knew he had broken a rule, maybe stretched the truth, but he had been found out and punished, hardly disgusting. Very carefully he sat down.

 He still thought about her occasionally but things were never going to be the same between them again...

Secondary School

 The trouble was his Uncle and IG had gone to the same school before him so there were expectations on M! He arrived, was allocated to the lowest stream and began his fight for academic recognition, a fight that would not be won at school!

Soon after he arrived he, like so many others, was picked on as the younger brother but, and for the only time in his life, IG was there to the rescue and belted the Bully! What a great feeling to have your brother looking out for you but as I mentioned it was to be short lived; now don’t get me wrong IG was always there for him, if he was asked, and maybe that was the problem, asking.

Anyway, M soon made friends amongst his own age and continued where he’d left off at his previous school, getting into occasional scrapes, enjoying sporting activities and getting by, just, with school work. The advantages of having an elder brother at the same school have already been demonstrated, the disadvantages were there too, especially as IG was clever and M was not, at least in the eyes of the Teachers. You can go one of two ways if you’re told you’re not as clever as your brother, you can fight it or accept it; throughout his school years M accepted it. What was the point, it was true wasn’t it, IG was in the clever group, M was in the thicky’s set; IG passed exams, M struggled and IG was a good pupil and M wasn’t!

Despite this handicap he was happy at school most of the time, he made good friends, especially AC who was a little older and taller, he enjoyed rugby for the first time and he began to smoke and steal; what more could any young boy need?! His two best mates at this time were, as already mentioned AC, and the other was CM and whilst AC was tall and shaved before anyone else, CM was small, cheeky and streetwise making these two the ideal friends for M as he sought to breakaway from his brother’s influence and reputation and establish himself is his own niche.

His days were spent in short periods of great happiness playing with his friends, revelling in sports activities and free time contrasting with long periods of boredom and frustration as he was penned in lessons that he didn’t enjoy, was not good at and with Teachers who, by and large, he did not connect with.

He enjoyed the playground, bouncing a golf ball at head height from one end of the yard to the other, until it was stopped, following complaints from those in the middle; he enjoyed paying rugby and found some success for the first time in a team; he enjoyed hiding and smoking and bragging about things he hadn’t done! Most of all he just enjoyed being one of the boys and was in a small and exclusive band of brothers that were respected or avoided depending on your viewpoint. His only unhappiness was the constant detentions that he accumulated for petty misdemeanours such as talking, not doing work or not doing work of the required standard, when he would have to sit still at a desk with all the other miscreants after school for forty-five minutes of absolute silent hell. Something that did not please his father either, as he was forced to wait outside, to take him home.

 However, as might have been anticipated, he was soon to fall foul of authority and ciggies would be his downfall. He was walking up to lunch with his mates and flashed a cigarette case, this was his Uncle’s case originally, how ironic. The reason why he did it escapes him, maybe to share a ciggie with his friends or maybe just to show off, the reason doesn’t matter, the fact is that one of the pupils was the son of a teacher and as M clocked him he thought that he might tell, but then dismissed the thought and went to lunch and thought little of it.     Sure enough, last lesson he was called to go and see the Head, so ever mindful, on the way up he slipped the cigarette case under a set of lockers and knocked on the door.

“Come” was the command, so in he went and, after some preliminaries L asked:

“Where are they?”

Now, give M his due, he stayed cool.

“Where’s what?”

“Don’t play with me, the cigarettes?”
“What cigarettes?”
“The ones you had in a case at lunchtime”

“I didn’t”
“Yes, you did”
This continued back & forth, both certain of their ground until L said:

“I’m going to search you if you don’t tell me the truth, so I’ll ask you again, have you got a cigarette case?”
Certain, for once he was telling the truth M Replied:
“No Sir”, a nice touch.

So, L searched him and naturally found nothing but his frustration was palpable as he knew his informant was trustworthy and sure of his facts and yet he could prove nothing so, reluctantly, he let M go with the final statement:
“I know you had them, but as I have your word that there must be a mistake, I will have to leave it at that”.

With a combination of smugness, contriteness and relief M left his room and headed downstairs to retrieve the evidence and meet his father who, as it was now well past the end of the school day, would be waiting for an explanation of his lateness!

Boarding School...

School is school for some people but for M each one held a unique fascination and appeal as well as other less desirable emotions. The next school was only a mile or two from his Primary school but this was “Big school” in every sense, it was the first school that held what he understood as proper lessons where you were expected to work and do homework; sport was properly organised into games lessons and he boarded and thus would be away from home for the first time.  This was to prove an experience that would, in many ways, shape his life as he found, unlike his brother who constantly ran away, that he quiet enjoyed the time away from home with his friends – although if he was honest I suspect he was safe in the knowledge that he would go home at times and his mother and father were always there should he need them!

It was in many ways a traditional boy’s school and yet was quiet modern too and this combination suited M down to the ground; it seemed to him the best of both worlds for him to develop as there was some freedom to enable him to flourish and yet the security of discipline to rein in anything too extreme. He loved the smell of the wood panelled walls, the fact that it was not too large and that he could be himself without the restrictions of a sibling’s reputation or indeed presence; something that all younger offspring usually take advantage of and enjoy. The teachers were, by and large, good and he seemed to flourish under their care. He enjoyed the rituals of the marbles matches, that he longed to, but rarely did, win; but most of all he loved football and was in the team above his age group, mainly through endeavour rather than skill. The first stirring that he might be good at something had taken root and it was here that they would begin to blossom. He found that he loved the rough and tumble of team sport and the accolade of doing well at individual sports. So he played football, usually in a mid-field attacking role, he competed in the Athletics, sprints and jumps and began a love / hate relationship with cricket.

Work still posed a problem for M, he believed he tried, but how much effort besides attending could be called into question; in reality he lacked concentration and got quickly bored and as his mind wandered the thoughts that replaced academic thoughts were not always pure or honest! He had begun at first school to get into minor scuffs and this would continue throughout his school career and here was no exception! He began to barter his possessions and kick against authority, another trend that would colour his life. One of the things that the boys had to do was learn to dance, which seemed fair enough to him, but not with other boys! So shortly after beginning these lessons he found himself bending over and receiving the slipper for being disrespectfully rude to the dance teacher which really consisted of no more than having a laugh and fooling about, but as was his want, a little too loudly,  and therefore being picked on and sent out!  He never mastered the Fred Astaire’s after that set-back!

The school was situated on a hill and commanded lovely views over the surrounding area, an area that was covered in heather and through which he went each week on the Sunday walk, a pleasant experience most of the time as it gave a chance to let off steam and have a good natter with his friends. He remembers also going out on these moors to do nature study, another subject like dance that promised so much but delivered little, as it was confined, much to his dismay, to the local fauna.

Again, change was on the horizon as he reached his ninth birthday and after two relatively happy years, he was about to change school again and go to secondary school in Liverpool.

First School

Going to school for a young boy and his parents can be a traumatic experience, but he enjoyed it! Being a gregarious little fellow it was a natural progression for M and he was happy, most of the time, although some things tested his spirit. He loved stories and most activities but some of the adults seemed a bit miserable and didn’t share his natural exuberance. Nevertheless his days were spent happily learning new things before returning home and playing; if all “school” was like this he would have no problems!

There were, inevitably days and events that were better or worse than others, a good day was playing Rounders or other sports, all of which he loved; days he did not enjoy were ones when he felt misunderstood!

Such a day was the one when he took his new lunch box to school; he was especially proud of this as it was designed like a small leather case, a cross between an attaché case and a suitcase. Unfortunately not all the children shared his love for this cherished possession and made fun of his “handbag” resulting in him having to sort the matter out by hitting the main jokester which seemed only fair to him.  However, not everyone shared his view of fair, especially the adults who proceeded in telling him what a naughty boy he was, keeping him in at playtime and, worst of all, made him stand in the corner away from his friends and whilst the adults had their lunch – how unfair was that?!!  Thinking back he can remember, everything about it, the faces, smells of lunch but most of all, the plain wall that he was so close to, wondering why he was there after all he hadn’t been the one who’d caused the trouble! Life was just beginning to be unfair.

Then there was the time when he was taking part in the Sports day, something he enjoyed and was good at, only to be disqualified from the egg and spoon race because he won so easily they said he must have cheated and held onto the egg; the indignity, the hurt! Maybe this was the start of the present day egalitarian approach to sports in schools were competition is frowned upon and everyone is a winner or could it also have been the start in him when he was going to beat the system and show them?!

Whatever, it was a day that still stings, even if the years have stretched and whether or not he did actually hold the egg with his thumb or not has blurred in the memory, the injustice and humiliation is crystal clear. Perhaps the other school thing that still rankles is the mothers’ Rounders game against the children when he was out to his mother’s bowling something that was to irk him for many a day; it just doesn’t or shouldn’t happen, you should score a rounder or be run out making a magnificent dash for glory but not out just standing there in the crease!

During these years he, like most of his age, went to lots of parties and was the life and soul of most of them but even then he had a panache for maybe going just too far, something that was to stay with him for the rest of his life! At one he fell in the pond, right at the start, even before the jelly and trifle and had to go home; whilst at another, running around, he made himself sick, obviously after the jelly and trifle, and again was returned home prematurely.

But his days, by and large, were still happy and carefree, with the odd mishap. However, once again this was about to change, as he was packed off, at the age of seven, to boarding school!

Early days

To begin at the beginning…it was the best and worst of times; the best because he was born successfully, the second son for his mother & father, the worst, as it was the end of the war, his father was away and it was bitterly cold & snowing! Therefore, the first member of the family to see M was Uncle G, whom he took after in name & nature and thus a close bond was formed for the rest of their lives. G brought snowdrops for the mother, his sister, and thus M was heralded into this world, more with a shudder than a bang! He doesn’t remember a great deal about the next few years so most of what follows is apocryphal! 
His parents were ordinary working folk; the father born in Thornton-le-Street and mother in Liverpool. They met through the uncle, as the father had moved from Leeds to Liverpool in search of work, later to be followed by his mother. His father played rugby for Liverpool, as did his Uncle and inevitably he invited my father home were he was introduced to his sister, the woman who was to become his future wife. They say food is the way to a man’s heart and it certainly proved the case for his father, as he went regularly to Aigbuth, after games of rugby, or training, to be fed; and the rest is history. The parents married, the day after the Second World War began and moved into a house brought by his grandfather to begin married life. Grandfather had sold his family home and brought the house for himself, his daughter and her new husband; his wife had died shortly after their daughter was born. This was one of many coincidences in life as the husband's father had died, of pneumonia in his early thirties, when he was still an infant. Thus life began their new life with the husband in the Navy and his mother at home looking after Grandad.
His brother, IG, was born three years before, whilst their father was on leave from the navy, he was to grow into a strapping six footer whist M was to be the runt of the family.

So it was that he was born in one of the coldest winters ever, still compared with when we have a cold snap; a poorly child at first, not eating and yet getting bigger by the minute; at ten months they eventually found and, most probably just in time, that he needed an operation to remove ten feet of  gut which was or had become twisted! Well, that must have been a relief to everyone not least of all to him! His brother obviously felt the need to feed him up as he was caught feeding him worms whilst he was still in a pram; so at least, as IG said, his baby brother didn’t feel neglected. The next memorable occasion also featured his elder brother, when IG pushed M down a small embankment onto a broken bottle, necessitating stitches in his knee. M never learned the justification IG gave for that act of kindness towards his sibling, but I’m sure he had one!

Now, I don’t want you dear reader to get the wrong impression, M was not an unhappy child, far from it, everyone said, so I’m told, that he was a very happy child with a loving nature, maybe that’s why his brother felt he needed some corrective  work!

Most days were spent running & playing in the garden or being taken to the shops a couple of miles away which, at this tender age, seemed a real adventure.  So the days went into weeks, months and years with little to distinguish them other than the weather; why is it that summer’s seemed hotter and winter colder then? I don’t know but it did. 
The war was over, rationing was in, father worked in Liverpool as did Uncle G, one for an Insurance company and the other in cotton; mother looked after M, his brother and Grandad. However, all this idyllic life was about to change as he was introduced to a thing called School!