Chandelier

For seven years, my presence, in body if not in mind, was required under this chandelier at 09:00 hours sharp. This wretched and tedious demand was not made on every day, fortunately, nor in every week. In fact it was probably for about forty weeks a year but this was more than enough.

If I dared to arrive late, approximately 450 pairs of eyes would swing round to find me, optically pinning me against the large oak doors at the west end of the hall. One pair in particular would single me out for later attention (and possible detention). I was often late; the demands of two paper rounds and an inability to rise early saw to that.

In my first year I was singled out from amongst my brethren in class 1X to ascend the stage at the east end of the hall and receive a prize. I can't remember what it was for - attendance, endeavour, general toadying. The one thing I do know is that it wouldn't have been for sport.

This trip up the steps to momentary fame never occurred again - I had peaked early. The rest of my school days consisted of a geometric series of minor disappointments. I caused not trouble, I made no waves, I just drifted, academically disinclined, but practically determined. I did generate the occasional ripple – no one could understand how I managed a qualification in Latin but not in French.

Today Pixie and I spent several hours in my old Alma Mater selling things that people don’t really need to people who don’t need them – it was as near to fun as you can get without actually having any.