Country life
It's getting worse
Leanda de Lisle
The decision was made four years ago when the eldest one went off to school. He was — and is — small for his age. They all are. 'It's Snow White and the four dwarves,' I joked when Peter and I last took them out. It was the most pathetic sight seeing my eldest son come home for his first exeat weekend, carrying an overnight bag that was almost as big as himself. He stood there while I hugged him, as if he had forgotten how to embrace me back. Why did we send him? Well, our nieces and nephews were living in London at the time and schools seemed so much more ambitious than the one my children were at. They were taught French at four. Mine wouldn't be taught French until they were ten — and so forth.
I looked at other local schools, but the good ones all had entrance exams and I already knew my middle son was dyslexic, so we scoured the country for somewhere that was as good as these fancy London schools, but accepted a broad-ability range and would teach them their Hail Marys. We found one in Hampshire. I told myself that Peter and I had been to boarding- school and lived to tell the tale. I told my eldest son that, if he was unhappy, I would take him away. But the only voice I heard, loud and clear, was the one that said, `Goodbye.' You would think it would get easier, but I find it gets worse. Whenever the older boys go back to school I feel as if a great part of my life has drained through my fingers and vanished forever. Why don't I reverse my decision, you may ask. Well, the reasons I sent them are still valid and children hate chopping and changing schools.
I think my youngest son misses his broth- ers even more than I do and he longs to join them. How much he will actually see of them at school, I don't know. It's anoth- er world. Having your children at boarding- school is like being divorced and splitting your children with another family. They don't like to talk about their other home too much and, when they're with you, you feel you can't just get on with your life. You must focus on them. My sister-in-law, who now lives in the country and has a child at boarding school, has just resigned from her job to do exactly that.
I, on the other hand, plan to find time in other ways. The rules will be: no trips to London during school holidays, no friends to stay, take the boys skiing at Easter and to the beach in the summer. But I do that already, so what are these 'more things' I must do with them? More visits to the zoo? More outings to Pizza Hut and the Warner Bros' cinema? Each break a mad flurry of activity followed by a new January. The house falling quiet, papers and crayons tided away and my heart going into deep freeze.
wanted the blue crayon.'
Previous page
