Naturally we discussed the situation at every free moment during the afternoon. I thought the fact that we had to see the headmaster in the morning rather than that afternoon was a bad sign, but was assured that he always dealt with pupil matters during the mornings and would be doing other things in the afternoon. I think my biggest worry was that I would get expelled because that would seriously disrupt my studies, therefore my exam grades, therefore my chances of the university place I wanted. The boys were again reassuring, telling me that a reprimand would be the worst that could happen. I still had lingering doubts though, and chose grey uniform trousers rather than skirt for the following morning.

We assembled just before eleven and checked our dress for neatness before approaching the headmaster’s study. Ignoring the line of six chairs positioned opposite his door, one of the boys knocked discreetly and we were gruffly summoned in.

The study was impressive with oak wall panelling throughout, rich ruby red carpet and dark walnut furniture. The headmaster didn’t beat about the bush but gave us the expected reprimand; sixth formers are not exempt from school rules, yes we are legally able to drink alcohol but it’s still against the school rules, not setting a good example, we should know better, etc, etc.

The headmaster paused and looked up from his desk, studying each of us in turn. Then he announced his verdict. The boys would receive six strokes of the cane each. I was to go next door to his secretary’s office and ask her to take me to a vacant classroom. Then we were told to get to it.

I hesitated for a moment, really wanting a little more detail about what was to be done with me, but I could sense the boys wanting to start stripping off their blazers and trousers and keen for me to be gone. I left the room and went next door where Mrs Bowflower, a middle-aged dowdy woman sat tapping away at an electric typewriter. I told her what the headmaster wanted her to do and she led the way just along the corridor to the next door classroom.

It wasn’t just to make conversation that I asked Mrs Bowflower what she reckoned would happen to me, but she simply suggested I wait and see and told me to sit down at one of the desks. I chose a desk behind the front row and sat in silence.

Within a minute or two, the first of the boys went past the window between classroom and corridor, one hand rubbing his bottom, the other carrying his blazer, and the tails of his shirt untidily hanging out. A few more minutes passed and the second boy fled past the window in much the same state as the first. In just another few short minutes the third boy went past, struggling to keep his trousers up, and I really started to worry.