POST-WAR YEARS
0091 - First Prep School
My first prep school, which was in Bromborough, was something of a nightmare. Perhaps that is why I have forgotten about it, or at least put it completely from my mind. It was a peculiarly English institution of that period, a school which concentrated more on having the right class of children to play with rather than teaching much to any of them! All I know is that I didn't get on very well, and was thought to be quite dim.
In addition to this I was bullied; especially by the girls, but also by the staff. Again I have put this out of my mind, but I remember two occasions in particular. In terms of the girls, I remember running frantically across the tree covered common which was next to the school, on my way to catch my bus. There was a line of girls, who were the worst bullies, sweeping behind me and another in front. I only escaped by jumping between the divided trunks a tree.
The teachers were not much better. I remember having my pocket sewn up with coloured wool, presumably because the age of five I was playing with myself. The paradox of that is that I didn't actually masturbate for real for at least another decade, indeed not until several years after I had real sex.
When I was at the Bromborough Prep, I used to take private piano lessons from a private tutor and had got to a reasonable level, though I hated the rap across the knuckles with a ruler which was the way you were rewarded for mistakes in those days! I can remember having to draw the notes on staves and learn about the theory of music as well as playing it; as well as proudly carrying my music in a brand new music case. I can remember its smell of new leather to this day - another victory for Proust and his smells. By the age of seven I was even playing things like the skater's waltz. But all of that ended when school work took precedence, and these days I can’t play a note, or even read music!
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