1 of 8

Write now Article Tools

I did not like school much, but being a compliant child, in addition to having a very single-minded mother, I went along and did my best most of the time.

There were those who stayed away with colds or tooth-ache on a regular basis. But when I started to sniffle, my mother passed me an extra handkerchief that she had dabbed with eucalyptus oil and sent me off as usual. When I complained of an aching tooth I would be taken to the dentist early on the very same morning to have it investigated, and then, regardless of the outcome, I would be returned to school.

Consequently, it did not seem worthwhile to make excuses. And as for simply heading off somewhere, as I had heard my brother planning with a friend, I simply would not have known where to go! I knew no place where I would be unlikely to get caught!

But one Wednesday afternoon in early winter, after riding my bike the half-mile home for a hot lunch, I was pedalling back towards the school and feeling rather downcast at the prospect. This was due to a double period of French timetabled for the afternoon - my worst nightmare!

A bike whizzed past from behind and then another overtook me at similar speed.

"You can come with us, if you get a move on!" yelled a voice which was certainly my brother's.

An invitation of this sort had never come my way before and since it was French that I would be missing, and I was already at the lower end of the class in that area, the repercussions from missing the session seemed unlikely to worsen the problems that I was already facing.

I increased my speed and was soon spinning along behind them as they turned right towards the outskirts of the small town. Feeling conspicuous in my bottle-green uniform, I tried to keep my head low and hope that I was not going to be recognised by some friend of my mother or an off-duty teacher.

Before long, the boys stopped under the old railway bridge and I came to a halt beside them. They wasted no words on me, but I was grateful to be there at all, and, anyway, I was quite used to tagging along after my brother and keeping my silence.

The bikes were hidden out of sight behind some concrete pipes. The boys shinned up the steep grassy embankment and were soon standing on top of the bridge, grinning down at me. I found the climb a little harder. My shoes kept slipping in the wet spots and I had trouble keeping my bulky skirt hitched up so that it did not get muddied. By the time I was up on the bridge, the boys were already heading off along the railway

• 1
• 2
• 3
• next page >>

Add your voice

Know something about Memoirs: Skipping school?
We want to hear your view. Write now!