A New Style of Education

by Karen Page

Part 58

---

Part 58

Wednesday, 25th January 2006

All we had been told was that tonight's meal was something a bit special. When I'd made enquiries with the older years, all I got was a smile and told that I was going to experience something different. Eventually, I managed to find that there was no special dress code, but perhaps being smartly dressed would add to the occasion. When I relayed this to the rest of Year-One, groans filled the room.

It was with a bit of trepidation that we made our way, smartly dressed, to the dining room. We weren't the first to arrive, and thank goodness, we weren't the last. Year-Two arrived just after us, and as they settled, I looked over again at their table. There was a gap where Renee normally sat. She'd seemed okay earlier, so sent a message to Dan asking if all was okay.

"Just wait," was the somewhat cryptic response.

Stacy rose, and the room fell silent. I expected an address but instead she recited a poem

Some hae meat and canna eat,
And some wad eat that want it,
But we hae meat and we can eat,
And sae the Lord be thankit.

She sat down as everyone applauded. I looked around our year table, and I wasn't the only one who looked puzzled. The only one who didn't was Anna, and she didn't look too well.

"This is Burns Night," she explained, as if that made sense.

"What's that?" asked Lewis, mirroring my thoughts.

"25th January is the birthdate of a Scottish poet called Robert Burns. Some people celebrate his birthday with a celebration meal and recite some of his poems."

"You seem to know a lot about it," Helen commented.

"Dad dragged us to one last year." As Anna turned towards Rachel, I noticed she was looking a bit pale. "How traditionally does the school do this?"

"There won't be any whiskey served. Though I presume your question is more to do with the main course."

Anna nodded.

"Did you try it last year?"

"Gah," she gagged. "No!"

"It's actually not that bad."

"What is the main course?" enquired Paula.

"Haggis," said Emma, as she put her PDA down.

I didn't hear any more as the serving bell tinged and I went with Helen to retrieve the food.

As always, the kitchen staff were ready when we got there.

"Be careful," said Donna, the sous-chef. "The bowls of soup are rather full. Oh, and the one with the different bowl is for Paula. I'm told she doesn't like leeks."

"Thanks," responded Helen and I together.

"What is the soup?" I enquired.

"Cock-a-Leekie for you all, and a Scotch Broth done without leaks for Paula. Oh, have you worked out what's for the main course?"

"Haggis."

"There are always some in year-one that don't like the sound of it. If any of you don't want it, then we have something else prepared."

We took a trolley each and gently pushed them back to our table. Paula was surprised to see a different dish for her until she found out what it was. The discussion about the Haggis was still raging, and I had to ask what the issue was.

"Sheep's bladder," shuddered Anna.

Yvonne had heard our discussion and came across from the year-three table. "Didn't you hear they spent all yesterday hunting the Haggis in the woods near the shooting range? The Haggis is a fearsome creature when hunted."

Emma burst out laughing. "You can't get me like that," she said to Yvonne.

"You mean there wasn't a Haggis hunt yesterday?" Paula asked, slightly bewildered.

"I should have known it wouldn't have worked on Emma," sighed Yvonne. "Oh, well." Yvonne went back to her table and we were all laughing about it, as we ate our soup.

We didn't have time to clear our empty soup bowls back onto the trolley before the sound of a bagpipe filtered into the room. I smiled to myself, now understanding where Renee was. It didn't take long for Renee to appear from kitchen wearing a kilt. Behind her came Justin, the school's head chef. He was carrying a dish on a silver platter. He had it raised so we could all see it.

"That’s the Haggis," quietly explained Anna to us.

Behind Justin came Victor from year four. I watched as they paraded around the room, all three of them looking very smart in the Scottish attire. Eventually they stopped by our table, and we shifted so they had room for Justin to place the dish on the edge of our table.

I'd not had much dealing with Victor, and hadn't had chance to review past year-three on the student profiles that I now had access to. Renee stopped playing and Victor looked around. A smile lit up his face and he started reciting another poem, but bizarrely, it seemed to be aimed towards the Haggis. His thick Scottish accent made it difficult to follow what he was saying, and while I thought I understood some, it seemed to be intermingled with strange words which I didn't understand.

Suddenly he produced a knife and all of us in year one gasped in shock. Knives like that weren't normally allowed in this school, or probably any school. Before we could get over our shock he proceeded to stab the Haggis. Because of the flourish of his performance, we all settled back in our seats, understanding this was part of the evening's entertainment; though it did take a while for my heart to beat at its normal pace.

"I scared you, didn't I?" Victor asked, after the Haggis had been removed back to the kitchen.

There were lots of nods all around. "Surprised and shocked," I added.

"Yeah, it isn't every day you see a knife like that," added Jill.

"Aye, ain't that so," Victor agreed. "Now I know you've all probably had your PDA's out and been looking up about the Haggis. Please try some, for me." He put on this begging look and we all laughed and stupidly agreed.

When Helen and I went to the kitchen they were rather surprised that we were all asking for the Haggis. "It's great that your year is so adventurous," smiled Donna as she helped load the trollies.

"Hoodwinked is more like it," muttered Helen as she looked at the Haggis with trepidation.

"Remember, don't go by the looks or the smell, but by the taste," called Donna, as we made our way back to our table. I took a sniff at the aroma and wished I'd got a clothes peg for my nose.

"What's that stink?" asked Brian, as we got to the table.

"It isn't a Xandoxan," smiled Rachel as I placed her plate in front of her.

"A what?" we all chorused.

"Never mind, a film I saw when I was a bit younger. The Xandoxan were interstellar hit beasts."

"Which film?" Lewis asked. I pretended to keel over.

"You mean there is a sci-fi film you've not seen?" Helen teased.

Lewis blew a very loud raspberry, which got a warning from everyone at the table.

"I can't remember the film," sighed Rachel. "And no looking it up now, you need to eat your meal."

That bit of banter had been a welcome diversion, and now I was reminded of the food. I finished serving and when I sat down I saw that everyone, besides Rachel, had been picking at the food.

Helen took a sigh and took a taste of the Haggis. I wasn't the only one watching, as she tentatively placed the morsel into her mouth. She didn't say anything, but took a slightly larger piece and slowly placed it in her mouth.

"Helen, stop teasing," I warned her.

"You've got to try it," she responded. "If you don't, I'll eat yours."

That was enough for Lewis, who had been uncharacteristically been holding back. He took a sample and was soon having more. "This is good stuff," he said, his mouth full of food.

"But it smells awful," complained Paula.

"If you put it in your mouth then you won't smell it," teased Lewis.

Paula stuck out her tongue and got a rebuke from Rachel for being rude.

In the end we all tried it and we all ate it up. I suppose this is one of those "don't judge a book by its cover" things. Or in this case, don't judge the taste by its smell.

When we took our empty dishes back we got a knowing smile from the staff. "It was delicious," said Helen as we unloaded the plates. "Thanks."

"Glad you had the guts to try it," said Justin bringing across our deserts. "Not many in year-one tried it last year."

As we brought the trolley through, I heard another poem being recited. This was about the sixth during the meal. None had been given by anybody in our year. When we got to our table, there was a discussion on who would say a poem from our table. Rachel was just sitting back watching and not saying anything. It seemed that since we hadn't been there, they were trying to decide if I should do it or Helen.

"Charming," I muttered, as I placed the bowl rather firmly in front of Jill.

"But you always do any announcements to the rest of the school," said Anna, trying to justify things.

"What about one of you lot trying it then? I have lots of experience."

They glanced at each other, surprised at that turn of events.

"I suppose I've not really been doing my half of the announcements," admitted Helen.

I didn't say anything.

"I do announcements to the orchestra," said Lewis. "I suppose it can't be worse than that. I'll do a poem."

Lewis pulled out his PDA and started looking at different Robert Burns poem's, his pudding unusually untouched. When he stood up to recite it we all put down our spoons to listen. When he finished we were rather warm with our applause; he'd spoken very well.

As we finished out rather tasty pudding, Rachel decided to speak to us all, "A bit of planning for you all. When year-five leave there is normally a five week gap before the new intake start in July. All but one of those weeks is for you to do as you please — a sort of holiday. However, one of the weeks, and which one you have to decide between you, is a time for group study. This isn't anything formal, but a time to find out more about a subject you might not cover in normal classes."

"Do we have to give a report, or a presentation after?" asked Paula.

"No, nothing like that. It is an opportunity we are giving you, nothing more, nothing less. Oh, and if you need to leave the school grounds, then either a member of staff will take you, or if they are available two of the current or past leavers."

"When do we need to let you know?" asked Helen.

"The topic by the end of April. The date a week before you want to start."

"So could we research sunbathing in Spain?" asked Emma, a small grin on her face.

"What do you think?" said Rachel, giving her a meaningful stare.

She didn't get chance to answer as Mr Hobson stood up. "I have a choice for you all for some after dinner entertainment. Would you like to see a historic film about Robert Burns, or would you like to have a Burn's party with lots of awful loud music and dancing. Those that want the school to watch the film shout 'film'." He paused and there wasn't a murmur. "This is very suspicious. Perhaps the haggis made you all lose you voices. Okay, for those that want to have a dance, shout 'dance'."

We all proved rather vocally that we hadn't lost our voices.

"Thank goodness for that. I was beginning to think that the medical wing was going to be working overtime. The party will be in the hall at eight. I think that will give you enough time to get ready."

Everyone looked at the time and the dining room was quickly deserted. There was no way I'd be ready. Heck, I didn't know what I was going to wear. It wasn't until I got to my room and started removing my clothes that I remembered that I wasn't dressing as Jayne. I slowed down a bit; I had plenty of time.

It was quite a relief to find we weren't the first or last to arrive. Brian and Lewis were there before us, which wasn't a total surprise. I thought Helen might have tried to persuade me to dress as Jayne for the dance, but she hadn't. In fact she had been insistent that I wasn't to be. Sometimes I don't understand that girl.

Thursday, 26th January 2006

I still felt tired as I stumbled down towards breakfast. Our curfew had been relaxed and the dancing and partying had gone on far too long. Looking back, most of year two had disappeared in good time, and perhaps we should have done the same. At first our year had kept pretty much to ourselves, but as the evening had progressed we noticed that most of the rest of the school was mingling. It was only a small school, and we did do a few things together, such as orchestra or when we did the Revue. Normal lessons were year based apart from language studies, which were cross-year ever since we'd completed French.

Helen and I were the first ones to get to our year-room, and there wasn't much time before breakfast. We expected others to arrive, but apart from Brian and Lewis, there were no others. When there was only a few minutes before breakfast we did a ring around. The calls were all met with groans.

"Did you have to ring us?" moaned Emma and she arrived. "I was in the middle of a wonderful dream."

"I didn't want any of us getting into trouble for oversleeping," explained Helen. "I checked a few minutes ago, and classes are on as normal."

"You're kidding," added Paula in a similar fashion to her study partner.

We just made it to breakfast and as we walked in we were met with a round of applause. I was quite bewildered at why until we sat down. Mr Hobson, who had joined us at our table, soon explained.

"You are the first complete year-one to make it to breakfast on time after the Burns Night Dance. I know what time you left the dance, so I'm sure you won't be with it most of the day, but that is the consequence of not thinking ahead. At this school you are given a lot more freedom than normal, but use it wisely. You should have realised that today was still a school day!"

"Year three seem fine, and they were there until curfew," frowned Brian.

"That comes with knowing that there was going to be a dance later. They opted for nap yesterday before the evening meal. Also, since they're a bit older, they can cope a bit better with a single night of less sleep."

"We didn't get that chance because we didn't know about the dance before you announced it at the meal. So are lessons really still on?" asked Helen, already knowing the answer.

"Of course. Now I'm not heartless, so a little tip — any special lessons between eleven and lunch have been cancelled, so you all should have an extra hours break. Use it wisely."

Helen pulled out her PDA. She was supposed to be chatting with Andy about her role as beta-two. At first a look of sadness came across her face, but was soon replaced by a look of relief.

Mr Hobson was true to his word and the first two lessons of the day were torture. None of us felt like doing any work, but that didn't stop the teachers droning on. Thankfully we didn't fall asleep, which might have been because the lessons were a lot more interactive than normal. I would hate to have experienced the punishment for falling asleep in lessons.

It was with some relief that we got released a few minutes early from our last morning lesson. We all rushed out, and instead of heading to the year-one room, we all dashed towards our bedrooms.

"I take it your chat with Andy was cancelled?" I enquired. I was already pretty sure of the answer because it was obvious Helen was going to have a nap.

She nodded. "He rearranged for tomorrow. There isn't any rush."

"Time will slip by. I remember someone saying like 'Don't put off doing something today just because it can be done tomorrow, because something new might turn up'."

Helen put her PDA on the bedside table. "What are you saying?"

"If you are feeling less tired after our nap, why don't you rearrange for tonight? Then you can grill him for not warning us about lessons being on today!"

Helen laughed and joined me on the bed. There wasn't much snuggling as we were both soon catching up on last night's missed sleep.

When I woke I felt a bit strange. I hated having a nap during the day, but I suppose if more after curfew events were going to happen because we were in the beta team, it might be something I needed to get used to. Either that or get used to less sleep on occasions. This was one of the downsides that I hadn't thought about when I'd accepted being Beta-one. I made a mental note to ask Stacy about the curfew arrangements for the next year, since year-two still had to be in our bedrooms by ten.

During our afternoon lessons I was a lot more alert than I was during the morning ones. If it wasn't for them being more interactive, then I'm sure one of us would have fallen asleep. It was just as the last lesson was finishing that Helen's and my PDAs pinged, signalling an urgent schedule update. Teachers were good about arranging updates not to occur during other lessons. We fished out our machines and there was an important meeting for all year leaders with Mr Hobson as soon as the lesson ended. The lesson must have been running slightly late, or the message wouldn't have pinged in the middle of the lesson.

"Sorry guys," said Helen to the rest of the year, when the lesson eventually ended. "Mr Hobson has decided to call an urgent year leader meeting."

There were various "Ooh's" that we heard in the distance as they dawdled to our year room. Helen and I though walked quickly towards Mr Hobson's office. We were the last to arrive.

"Excellent," said Mr Hobson as we went into is room. "This will be announced during the meal, but I thought a brief discussion would be advisable. We have just been notified by Ofsted that they will be visiting on Monday and Tuesday next week."

"Oh good," I let out.

Everybody looked at me in surprise and I turned a shade of red. I hadn't meant it to be verbalised.

"I'm glad it'll be over with before our commitment ceremony. I'd had a picture in my mind of them turning up unannounced half way through the event. Sorry if that's a bit self-centred."

"Understandable though," smiled Mr Hobson. "From the student perspective, there shouldn't be much involvement. Ofsted are here to assess the teaching and the school, not the students. While here, they may ask some students some questions about the lessons, but that is about it. Can you all talk with your years and see if there are any volunteers, just in case Ofsted ask for them? They have also got some optional questionnaires that they ask to be filled in. After tonight's meals, can you make sure that everyone in your year gets one?"

He opened his folder and took out five prepared batches which he handed out. He started with Stacy and made his way down the years. When he came to year-one he hesitated, not knowing who to give it to. I leaned across and held out my hand. Just one of the issues he hadn't thought of with having joint heads of the year.

Since I was seated next to Helen we shared as we glanced at the questionnaire. The first part was pretty standard stuff about what we thought of the school. The second part wasn't what I was expecting. It was geared to the boarding bit of school, and what we thought of the rooms, meals and privacy.

"Don't they have a website to do this on?" asked Tim.

"Not yet, though they are talking about it as part of the government drive to put more online. I know you use computers and PDA's for a lot, but I'm sure you haven't forgotten how to use pen and paper!"

We all laughed at that.

Mr Hobson continued, "Now we've got the admin out of the way, is there anything that I don't know about that this inspection might impact, or they impact the inspection?"

I thought hard about it, but couldn't come up with anything happening with year-one. I glanced across at Helen and she shook her head. I was about to respond no when I suddenly had an idea, "The only thing I can think about it Erika and Martha."

Mr Hobson nodded. "That might have been an issue if we hadn't sorted things out properly. Martha and Erika are here legally on a special one year exchange program which we can extend. Anything else?"

None of the other years had anything to report, which pleased Mr Hobson. "Thank you for your time. If anybody does think of anything then please let me know."

As we walked out of Mr Hobson's office, Stacy called Helen and me to one side. "Helen, are you sure you will be okay to talk with Andy tonight?"

"I had a good rest just before lunch," Helen responded. "I'm okay for tonight if he is."

"Excellent, I'll let him know."

When we got into our year room Brian put his hands over his heart like he was in shock. "Is that paper I see?"

"Yes," I responded, not rising to his bait. "It is for after our meal, so no peaking. It gives you a little time to remember where we stored the pens."

"Ha ha." We all knew where it was — in the cupboard just below the television. They weren't used much, but there were times when they were resorted to.

The questionnaires sparked a lot if curiosity, but nobody pressed too much and they were left untouched on the side. It wasn't long before the meal and Mr Hobson made the announcement, including the optional forms.

"Will they come into our lessons?" asked Emma to Becky, our years support person. "I presume you were here when they had their last inspection."

"Yes, I was here when they came three years ago. They might come into a lesson, but probably not for the whole lesson. They will be here to assess how the school does. Some of that is reviewing a lot of paperwork the school produces, results, lesson plans. Ofsted inspections have changed a lot over the last few years. We had someone for the Department of Education check up on us last year."

"What about orchestra practice?" Lewis asked.

"If it is still scheduled for Monday, then it probably is. Music is a big part of the school's output, so I'm sure it won't be left out."

For some reason the thought of having visitors in the school made me think of Sam. Sam would have got very nervous about someone getting that close. Even though we had regular contact it wasn't the same.

"What're you thinking about?" Helen whispered.

"Sam," I said, not a quietly as Helen.

"I miss Sam too. Don't forget both Sam and Jessica will be back for our marriage."

"Affirmation," Becky corrected.

"When is that going to be?" asked Emma.

"Certainly not while Ofsted are here," Helen responded. That got a few laughs.

I wish it was next week.

"But isn't it a while-" started Brian.

"Rachel wants us to wait a bit longer," I interrupted. "Okay?" I couldn't say much more, not out here.

Helen put her hand on my knee. I'd been a bit sharp with Brian, but sometimes I wish some in our year weren't so inquisitive.

Brian looked slightly surprised for a second and then blushed. "Sorry."

"Me too," I responded, with a small smile. "I just wish it was next week."

It was when we were all out year's room that I raised the subject again. "I'm sorry Brian if I stopped you asking earlier."

"It's okay," he responded. "I suppose I was being a bit nosy."

"Perhaps, but I'd like to tell you. It's just I didn't want to say too much there. Helen and I appear to be over our issues from Russia, but Rachel said that sometimes as life progresses that the issues might resurface."

"But why would that stop your ceremony?"

"Because, just like a wedding, it can be stressful, and stress is a more probable trigger. Helen and I will wait a little longer, and if all is okay try and set a date."

Monday 30th January 2006

The school's large imposing wrought iron gates had one major benefit. The Ofsted inspectors couldn't just turn up and see something that we would rather they didn't. As soon as they buzzed at the gate the word spread rapidly through the pupils. They had arrived before breakfast, which seemed to surprise most of us. Perhaps they'd heard how good the meals were and wanted to partake.

There were a few who found excuses to go past the main entrance as they arrived and take a quick peek, but the majority met them for the first time at breakfast. They weren't going to eat, but Mr Hobson thought it was a good time for us to all see the visitors who would be there for the next few days. The inspectors looked slightly bewildered at being shown to the pupils; I found out later that this was very unusual. They then disappeared with Mr Hobson and we could get on with our breakfast in peace. The inspection and the inspectors were the main conversation all the way through the meal.

As it was Monday, our first lesson was Computer Studies. For me this was one of the easiest lessons of the curriculum. I'd seen what was being taught and had already covered it all over the last few years. June's training had been very thorough. So I was quite relaxed as we left breakfast. It wasn't to last.

Stacy was waiting outside the dining room and signalled to me. Her expression was all business and I sighed to myself. It didn't look like it was going to be a conversation I was going to like.

"Hi," I said, trying not to look at her face. "What have I done wrong?"

"Nothing …yet."

"Yet?"

"Just a reminder. We are on show to Ofsted. Yes, they are inspecting the school, but we don't want to give anything away."

In a slightly hurt tone, I accused her, "You want me to be more boyish, don't you?"

Stacy hesitated. "There is another option."

I frowned, wondering what she meant. If this had been a cartoon then a light bulb would have suddenly lit up above my head. "Jayne. Do you prefer me as Jayne?"

She blushed and looked around.

"Truthfully now. Remember what we agreed on the train." I looked up and stared right into her eyes.

She didn't look away, but stared right back. "When you are fully David, you seem so sad. It's like you are doing something your heart isn't in. When you are dressed as Jayne, your heart seems there, but again there is some air of resentment. As you are now, you seem at peace, but only when you aren't bugged about it. When someone mentions it, or refers to you as female, you are the worst there is. It is like the life gets sucked out of you, that you feel defective and shouldn't exist."

"I am defective."

"To me you're not. To me you are perfect the way you are."

"Though nothing can happen," I sighed.

"Correct. Certainly not while we are all at school. After that, who knows. You might find that this was all because of what happened in Moscow, and in a year you don't have the same feelings. Anyway, my suggestion about not appearing at odds with what the inspectors think is just that; a suggestion. It's up to you."

I looked at the time and saw there was still twenty minutes before our first class, so knew the others would be in our common-room. I didn't get much chance to think about what Stacy said before I was there. There wasn't much time before the first lesson, so I decided to stay dressed as I was.

Everyone in the room looked at me as I walked in. Seeing it was me they all went back to what they were doing.

"Are you okay?" asked Helen as I went across the room to cuddle up to her.

"Yes, though I've got a favour to ask."

"Oh?"

"You are used to me, but the inspectors won't be. Therefore I'm going to try to act a bit more masculine for the next few days. If I slip up, will you remind me?"

"Of course," she replied without hesitation. "We're a team and we look out for each other. Are you sure you're okay with this?"

"I think so," I replied honestly. "Anyway, it will be good practice."

It wasn't just Helen who picked me up when I slipped, the whole year helped. Lewis was the most critical, but in a good way. Perhaps critical isn't the right word. Demanding for perfection might be better. He just didn't remind me, but also gave me pointers. Had I forgotten that much since boy lessons?

In the end it was a bit of a let-down. I expected the inspectors would ask lots of questions in the lessons, but they didn't. They watched, observed and wrote lots of notes. They also sat through the orchestra rehearsal on Monday and were very surprised when they discovered that a pupil was also the conductor; yet they didn't say anything, just sat and listened. For once I didn't see a single bit of note taking.

Tuesday 31st January 2006

The second day the same inspectors were back, but we got the warning earlier than expected. It seems they wanted to see for themselves that we were exercising. I half expected to see an inspector on a bike, but if they did, I didn't see one. The lead inspector joined us for our morning year-leader chat. Mr Hobson's office was cramped enough with six pupils, but with the inspector there too there were no spare seats.

"I'll stand," he offered, getting up from the settee and offering it to Susan, who was the last one to arrive.

When we were all settled, Mr Hobson explained what was happening. "Mr Davies is the lead inspector. As part of the introduction yesterday the year leaders were mentioned and he thought it would be good to sit in our morning chat. First off is there any feedback from yesterday or any other issue?" Helen raised her hand. "Helen."

Helen started, "Yesterday we had an inspector sit in most of our lessons. It might be disruptive if they sit in during life skills."

"Don't worry, that was already explained to Mr Davies yesterday. He was shown the lesson plan and agreed that it would not help the lesson for them to observer it. Any one-to-ones with support personnel will also be off limits."

I was glad about the last comment. I didn't want the inspector sitting in on my chat at eleven with Rachel. I couldn't imagine what the Ofsted inspector would think of chatting about what causes me to be sick.

Susan was next with a question. "The paperwork implied that the sleeping wing would be inspected. Since none of us have been contacted, is this going to happen today?"

"This will be raised at breakfast. According to the timetable this is scheduled for eleven. At breakfast we will be asking for volunteers to show their rooms. An application for this will be on the PDA until first lesson starts. The inspectors will choose a few names randomly. Any other questions?"

There weren't any.

"I have one piece of news for you. This morning I've had confirmation of the date for the orchestra demonstration. It will be Wednesday the 15th February. Any other business?"

There weren't and we all departed back to our year rooms. I'd expected the day to be a bit like the day before, but not only were they not in our life-skills class, but they weren't in any others either. Perhaps they were picking on other years.

The next time that I saw an Ofsted inspector was just before our evening meal and then it was just one, the head inspector. We'd all been called into the dining room early to hear what he had to say.

"This is the first time that I've ever done this," he started. "We normally discuss our findings with the school's management team and governors, then leave. However, Mr Hobson asked if I would briefly outline our findings to you all. This was on Monday when we arrived. Initially I refused, but after two days here, I find myself agreeing that for this school it is appropriate. So thank you for all coming early and at short notice.

"I'd like to thank you for all your hospitality and support. The new two day inspections are very hard work on the school, but everything we needed was ready. There were a few times where an inspector was lost, and was quickly guided somewhere by a pupil. We found the lessons a dream to sit in and were amazed at what was being taught. Educationally we could not fault the school.

"However, there was one area where we find room for improvement and that is with some of the boarding arrangements. The inspectors feel there isn't enough opportunity for pupils to leave the school grounds at weekends for a few hours. Growing up isn't just about scholastic education, but learning about the real world. I am aware that the school is remote, but some other remote boarding schools operate a shuttle service to the nearest town.

"That is one small issue which we had to try very hard to find. We were not only very impressed with the standard of education, teaching and facilities, but also the orchestra. You should all be proud at how well you play."

Mr Davies stopped and we all gave him a polite clap. It was quite a relief to see all the inspectors go so that school life could return to normal.

---

Readers, Please Remember to Leave a Comment

Want to comment but don't want to open an account?
Anyone can log in as Guest Reader -- password topshelf to leave a comment.