My father’s words haunted me, and I wanted to do the right thing and tell what I had seen – but to own up would mean the cane. Even if my father was right, and Mrs Hamilton was lenient, I could expect a minimum of four strokes. I was very scared of that prospect.
So here was my dilemma – I was upset at the loss of the chickens and the damage to the greenhouse but for me, the truth was going to hurt.
Finally, one Friday lunchtime, I made my decision. I drifted away from my mates and made my way to the school secretary, who sat in an annexe outside the headmistress’s office.