My prep school was a Malory Towers kind of a school and we had a big old cedar (I think – biological identification isn’t my strong point) tree in the grounds, which we all climbed. There were various routes around the tree, tried and tested by generations of little girls. When you first joined the school you were only allowed do the lower, easier routes, but as you grew older you could progress further up and teach the younger girls how to get to, for example, Dead Man’s Drop. This was the highest point that you could get to and involved shimmying halfway along a branch, grasping hold of a small spur, swinging yourself around underneath the branch, hanging off it and then dropping to the ground. There were a couple of minor accidents while I was there – my friend Char gave herself a greenstick fracture in her arm by breaking her fall badly, and another girl caused quite a stir when she fell and appeared to have blood coming from her head. On further inspection it transpired that in fact it was pink paint, from where she’d got a bit overexcited in art class earlier on.
We did a lot of climbing, in fact. In one of the dorms, known as Marble, there was a large marble (hence the name) fireplace. I seem to remember that we weren’t actually allowed to climb on it, but of course we did. I was only in that dorm for a short time, when it became a convalescence room after most of the school was struck down with flu. I still remember the sense of glee, however, when I felt well enough to climb up onto the mantelpiece. Ah, what fun!
I got into trouble quite a lot for talking after lights out. Strange, when I’m normally quite a taciturn sort of a person, but I was probably led astray. Yes, that would be it. Our punishment for being noisy was to be put on the Balcony, which was in fact a minstrel’s gallery, overlooking the dining room. We would then be told to sit there for what seemed like hours, although I very much doubt that it actually was. Often there would only be one or two people on the Balcony, so we would be placed at either end and told to sit silently; I suppose we were probably meant to consider our naughtiness and be chastened by it. I found it rather fun, to be honest, and it was always a challenge to try and pass signals to your partner-in-crime at the other end without being noticed by the matron.
Once you’d been put on the Balcony three times, you would be put into detention. I did quite a few detentions, and they generally took the form of doing lines. We would be given a dull piece of text and told to start copying; it depended on how naughty you had been as to how long you were kept there. After a while, writer’s cramp would set in and your eyes would start going round in circles, but I think it’s stood me in good stead for all the boring copy typing that I do nowadays to earn money. Once your time was up, you would hand the pieces of paper, covered in text, to the headmistress, who presided over detention, and she would rip it up in front of you and throw it in the bin. Not very green, but this was the mid-80s and nobody had heard of recycling in those days.
Roller skating was a big thing when I was there. There was a concrete ramp which ran down to the playground, known as the M1 for some reason. The custom was to scramble up to the top of the ramp, then shout as loudly as possible, ‘Clear the M1 and gangway!’ before launching yourself down the ramp and either doing a fancy jump off the kerb onto the playground, or catching hold of one of the wooden stair supports half way down and swinging yourself around them. One day I did the obligatory warning shout and launched myself with gusto, just as the headmistress was coming out of the door to one of the classrooms, which was unfortunately at the bottom of the ramp. I crashed headlong into her and she still tells the story to this day.
(Originally published elsewhere in December 2006)