THURSDAY 12th OCTOBER 1979.

I was strolling along the lower floors today when Tracy Piner appeared, agitated and needing to talk to me urgently. It seemed that one of the female prefects was refusing to go on duty. Remembering the incident with Pat Graham recently, it was on the tip of my tongue to tell her to go and sort it out herself. I remembered just in time that Tracy's reaction would probably be to fire the girl and appoint some Fifth Year or other as her replacement. Also knowing the way the collective mind of the sixth from worked that would almost certainly provoke a walk out. Since the staff treated them like workers, the prefects tended to opt for striking as a means of expressing their displeasure. Strike action usually meant that the staff would have to work at break times and therefore as a method for being listened to, usually worked quite well.

I discover that the miscreant is someone called Tracey Reeves. Piner wants my support in order to have her sacked. I suggest to TP, that before we go down that road, I have a quick word. Tracy is not convinced that I can make any difference, but that very conviction means that she can't stop me when I wander off to find Miss Reeves. She is in the library, by the time I reach her word has already reached her that I want a word - probably via one of Piner's cronies. In best Gaynesford tradition they had decided to put the boot in nice and early. As a result, we skirt around the topic for several minutes. Reeves is convinced that she is going to get kicked out of the Sixth form. This is nonsense. The worst that can happen is that she is no longer a prefect. Having said that, no one has ever been a Sixth Former without being a prefect. Finally, after several minutes of verbal fencing, I ask her why she doesn't want to go on duty? Her answer is illuminating.

“I don't have time!” She pulls a crumpled copy of her timetable from her bag. Just about every time slot is filled.

Tracey is doing a combination of CSE and "O" levels and many are repeated at both levels. It would seem she is taking four O levels with four CSE as back up subjects. In addition she is doing three other CSE subjects. In short very busy.“I need three O levels or three CSE grade 1 or two.” She tells me.¹ I don't bother to ask what she plans to do. The subjects, English, Maths, Typing, tell me all I need to know.
“I don't have time to mess around with anything else.” she says.
I see her point. Study comes a poor second to being available to guard classroom, patrol corridors and do stuff which in another part of the world would probably include the term 'paramilitary.'
Stuff the education, just make sure you are around for wet breaks! I am seized with the notion, as Raven would say of solving this problem. Question is how...?

Then an idea occurs to me.
“How about a duty that means you don't have to do anything?” I offer in a tone which on reflection is probably just too laced with tones of old men and lollipops, but in that moment I am feeling very pleased with myself. Tracey looks interested and more interested when I explain...

My plan is simple; I'll move Tracey to guarding the main entrance. Finding someone to do Tracey's job should not be a difficulty, I can swap some of the prefects around. Of course, my opposite number will not be happy about it. But then that's all part of the fun and its likely that no-one (read Graham) has told Tracy that placement of prefects is within our remit.

It doesn't take a genius to figure out that for whatever reason, Tracy wanted to create a scene. I wonder why? Actually I can guess that she is the gun loaded by Mrs G and pointed in my direction. The deputy considers me more of a waste of space then Mrs Lines does. Fuck, I really know how to make friends and influence people don't I? Ironically, the only thing that would happen if I were to resign if a slight bruising to my ego, oddly enough I have a feeling that if I did quit the rest of the sixth form would follow, just because they enjoy a little anarchy. I file that thought away for the future...

Tomorrow is the harvest festival. Once the business with Tracey and Tracy is resolved, I start to feel those first stomach-rumbling signs of panic. 800 plus children watching me make a complete prat of myself. If that wasn't bad enough, the rehearsals for the First and Second Year dancers have not gone well. Given the short time scale, Raven assumed that everyone would drop what he or she was doing and intensive rehearsals would enable us to get away from it. The staff responsible for organising the dancing, having run through it a couple of times had other things to do. With the result that what we have is woefully inadequate. In rehearsal the kids do little more than mooch on to the stage and hop from one foot to the other in an embarrassed-to-be-there fashion and occasionally in time to the music. This doesn't bode well.

***

Footnotes
1 This mix and match approach to exam was not uncommon, the lower graded Certificate of Secondary Education being regarded as a back up in the event that the Certificate of General Education Ordinary Level failed or did not return a reasonable grade.