I’ve been very virtuous these past few days. See, the kind folks for whom I’m running a project at the moment will quite happily lay on a taxi from my hotel to their offices and back each day. Total cost to them - around £30.Or, as the weather’s nice and I’m so considerate, I could jump on the local bus for 90p each way - and take a short stroll in the lovely sunshine.

This morning, we were joined en route by a group of schoolgirls, all smartly-dressed in neat blazers. They discussed the revision they’d done over the weekend - good girls, clearly.

Good, that is, save one of their number. For she, dear readers, took out her mobile phone (banned on school premises), uttered an astonishingly rude word to the person she called (swearing: banned), and managed to combine the immaculate uniform with several items of jewellery (banned) and make-up (banned).

One can picture her face at the start of her first lesson of the day, when she spotted that the gentleman who’d sat next to her on the bus was their new supply teacher*. He’d have to send her out of his lesson to report to her Housemaster’s study, naturally, with a carefully-written note. After all, new masters need to establish their authority, and her tearful look as she winced her way into her desk on her return from her caning would demonstrate his strict approach most clearly.

* No, I was going to an office. I doubt they’d have me as a schoolmaster.

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