Read Online One Young Fool in Dorset by Victoria Twead - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Victoria Twead
Ads: Link
She has given up with mathematics
which is silly and pointless. She must do the Arithmetic and
English Progress Papers I have given her during the holidays.
Please ensure she does them daily, not in a rush just before the TH
term starts!
Joan Pellow (headteacher)
* * *
Before school term started, there was a lot to do.
Apart from the awful Progress Papers that I had to wrestle with
every day, there was packing. My father heaved a huge trunk into my
bedroom. There it remained, like a giant open coffin, slowly
filling up in readiness for the new term. TH had provided us with
an inventory, and every tiny thing on that list had to be checked
off, right down to colour of shoe polish. Astonishingly, the
particular brown required was called by a word that was soon to be
banned, a word that rhymes with ‘bigger’. We had no idea the word
was so insulting or controversial. Of course this particular shade
has been renamed now.
There were the summer and uniforms. In winter we
wore navy blue pinafore dresses with white blouses underneath. We
had to wear stockings and suspenders because tights hadn’t been
invented yet. The stockings were usually a disgusting shade called
‘American Tan’ and had to be 60-90 denier, making them virtually
bullet-proof. We also had to wear gloves and navy blue felt hats.
In summer, we wore gingham dresses and white socks with blazers and
straw boaters.
Then there was mufti , or non-uniform clothes.
We were allowed a couple of summer dresses, a pair of trousers, a
pair of shorts, and some tops.
Sports equipment, such as hockey sticks and tennis
racquets, needed to be packed. Black swimming costumes, and
culottes (short trousers that looked like skirts) were included. We
also needed bed sheets, towels, dressing gown, slippers and wash
stuff.
Then there were some puzzling items that needed
explaining, like the 6 pairs of white cotton linings . And 3 pairs of navies with pocket .
“ Ach, ” said my mother, already familiar with
this requirement because of my sister’s packing in previous years.
“Linings just means underpants. And navies are navy blue knickers
to go over the top.”
“What’s the pocket for?”
“I don’t know. A hanky maybe?”
Every pupil also needed to bring a sanitary belt and
two packs of Dr White’s sanitary towels. These were enormous pads
with loops either end, not like the neat, flat, self-adhesive pads
that are available nowadays.
“What are these?” asked my brother, waving one at
me.
He was preparing to go to boarding school too, and
Dr White’s were certainly not on his list of requirements.
“Oh, they’re in case you get a nosebleed,” I said.
“You hook those loops over your ears.”
He seemed satisfied with that, and left me to carry
on packing.
Every item had to be labelled with our name and
laundry number (mine was SY16) if it was to be sent to the laundry.
My mother never claimed to be a domestic goddess, and sewing on
those endless Cash’s name-tapes must have driven her crazy.
I was to be in St Mary’s, one of three houses set in
pine woodlands some distance from the school. St Mary’s was three
floors high and had long stone-floored corridors. The ground floor
was given over to the kitchen, dining room, Matron’s office,
prefects’ rooms and two common rooms: one for the seniors and the
other for juniors. Upstairs were the dormitories (or dorms),
bathrooms and the Housemistress’s suite.
St Mary’s
today
The dormitories already felt quite familiar to me as
I had previously visited them with my sister. There were eight high
metal beds, each with a metal locker beside it. No curtains, no
privacy, but it never occurred to me at that age that I needed
it.
On that first day, I was the last to arrive. The
dorm was buzzing with noise and chaotic with half-unpacked trunks.
Parents milled around, helping their daughters settle in. My father
was in the doorway, dragging my trunk inside. Overcome with
shyness, I looked around. Every bed
which is silly and pointless. She must do the Arithmetic and
English Progress Papers I have given her during the holidays.
Please ensure she does them daily, not in a rush just before the TH
term starts!
Joan Pellow (headteacher)
* * *
Before school term started, there was a lot to do.
Apart from the awful Progress Papers that I had to wrestle with
every day, there was packing. My father heaved a huge trunk into my
bedroom. There it remained, like a giant open coffin, slowly
filling up in readiness for the new term. TH had provided us with
an inventory, and every tiny thing on that list had to be checked
off, right down to colour of shoe polish. Astonishingly, the
particular brown required was called by a word that was soon to be
banned, a word that rhymes with ‘bigger’. We had no idea the word
was so insulting or controversial. Of course this particular shade
has been renamed now.
There were the summer and uniforms. In winter we
wore navy blue pinafore dresses with white blouses underneath. We
had to wear stockings and suspenders because tights hadn’t been
invented yet. The stockings were usually a disgusting shade called
‘American Tan’ and had to be 60-90 denier, making them virtually
bullet-proof. We also had to wear gloves and navy blue felt hats.
In summer, we wore gingham dresses and white socks with blazers and
straw boaters.
Then there was mufti , or non-uniform clothes.
We were allowed a couple of summer dresses, a pair of trousers, a
pair of shorts, and some tops.
Sports equipment, such as hockey sticks and tennis
racquets, needed to be packed. Black swimming costumes, and
culottes (short trousers that looked like skirts) were included. We
also needed bed sheets, towels, dressing gown, slippers and wash
stuff.
Then there were some puzzling items that needed
explaining, like the 6 pairs of white cotton linings . And 3 pairs of navies with pocket .
“ Ach, ” said my mother, already familiar with
this requirement because of my sister’s packing in previous years.
“Linings just means underpants. And navies are navy blue knickers
to go over the top.”
“What’s the pocket for?”
“I don’t know. A hanky maybe?”
Every pupil also needed to bring a sanitary belt and
two packs of Dr White’s sanitary towels. These were enormous pads
with loops either end, not like the neat, flat, self-adhesive pads
that are available nowadays.
“What are these?” asked my brother, waving one at
me.
He was preparing to go to boarding school too, and
Dr White’s were certainly not on his list of requirements.
“Oh, they’re in case you get a nosebleed,” I said.
“You hook those loops over your ears.”
He seemed satisfied with that, and left me to carry
on packing.
Every item had to be labelled with our name and
laundry number (mine was SY16) if it was to be sent to the laundry.
My mother never claimed to be a domestic goddess, and sewing on
those endless Cash’s name-tapes must have driven her crazy.
I was to be in St Mary’s, one of three houses set in
pine woodlands some distance from the school. St Mary’s was three
floors high and had long stone-floored corridors. The ground floor
was given over to the kitchen, dining room, Matron’s office,
prefects’ rooms and two common rooms: one for the seniors and the
other for juniors. Upstairs were the dormitories (or dorms),
bathrooms and the Housemistress’s suite.
St Mary’s
today
The dormitories already felt quite familiar to me as
I had previously visited them with my sister. There were eight high
metal beds, each with a metal locker beside it. No curtains, no
privacy, but it never occurred to me at that age that I needed
it.
On that first day, I was the last to arrive. The
dorm was buzzing with noise and chaotic with half-unpacked trunks.
Parents milled around, helping their daughters settle in. My father
was in the doorway, dragging my trunk inside. Overcome with
shyness, I looked around. Every bed
Similar Books
