It was speech day, at the end of term, and we were all supporting the headmaster in our prefect role, welcoming parents and guests and applauding during the speeches at the right moments as we had been instructed. Watching from the back of the large hall, I thought that the headmaster sounded a little slurred and was concerned whether he would still be able to give me a lift back home once the ceremony had finished, particularly as my father was away working and the night buses were infrequent at best. However, my worries were unfounded as, once all the guests had departed, the headmaster came and found me to tell me that it was time to leave. During the journey, which took about 30 minutes, the headmaster was in very high spirits, telling me how successful the evening had been and how well I had been doing at school and, from his animated conversation, it became apparent that he had indeed had a few sherries earlier, as he began giving me his opinion of quite a few of the other teachers, information that I felt sure he should not be divulging to a 16 year old pupil.
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