Whenever two or three members of the Upper Sixth are gathered together, they start talking about The Last Day.
Worried that a millenarian cult was being started in my own kitchen, I made enquiries. In fact, the controversy is over how the sixth formers will mark their last ever official school day, just before their exam leave starts.
The general principle is that this day should be a tad naughty but stop well short of complete anarchy with, say, the deputy heads trussed to the goalposts on the sports field and the parents of weeping year sevens receiving ransom notes.
One story is that the pupils at a local school circulated rumours of illegal chicken racing for several days before they left, then on the final day, somebody brought in three live chickens. Pinned to them were the numbers One, Two and Four. They were then released within the school. The teachers picked up One, Two and Four pretty quickly, but the hunt for the mythical number Three went on for some time.
At another local school, leavers rounded up all the red-headed pupils in the lower school, took them to a nearby lake, rowed them to the central island and marooned them there. Funny until you take a look at it from the victims’ point of view.
Here’s hoping Perran and Carenza’s year veer more in the racing-chicken direction.