The young ladies sitting opposite us on the train, late on Friday afternoon, were casually dressed – but expensively so – and their haircuts cost more than my suit. Their accents were pure top-drawer; their folders revealed them to be pupils at a particularly prestigious girls’ boarding school.

The discussion turned to the fate awaiting some of their fellow students:

“Surely they won’t be suspended for having cigarettes?”

“No,” I leant over and replied. “The Headmistress will cane them on Monday morning – having left them to fret about their punishment over the weekend.” (Only I didn’t, of course. And she wouldn’t!)

One of their number looked particularly concerned for her friends. “I went pale when they said there’d be an inspection. Thank goodness they didn’t catch *me*.” (“No, young lady, they didn’t. But I shall be writing to your Headmistress this evening…”?)