It was the year that Procul Harum’s Whiter Shade of Pale was number one in the charts for nearly twelve weeks that I decided, after three years attending a boarding school founded by in the early 19th century, enough was enough.
The despotic headmaster had already told my parents that I was something of an enigma and would never make it to university. Fortunately, I was able to prove him completely wrong: and, with the impetus of adolescent defiance and determination, went on to study at four universities, one of which was at postgraduate level.
This account is not a look back in anger but more of a philosophical reflection of an event – perceived at the time as probably weak and even shameful – that can sometimes reset us on a different trajectory and result in a far better outcome.
That event recalled was to break the norms of public school tradition, its intransigence, subjugation and belittlement: all thinly disguised by that euphemistic mantra of character-building. This supposedly results in us all becoming thoroughly decent chaps as exemplified by some of Britain’s prime ministers.
Aspiring to be a successful absconder was the last resort in throwing down the gauntlet to tradition, and a measure of desperation, and was not by any means easily achieved. One’s whereabouts were closely monitored, and those who did manage to make it as far as the railway station would be quickly intercepted by the prefects and hauled back to face retribution. This was usually in the form of a caning followed by long-term ‘gating’ – a term used to refer to constant monitoring which meant reporting to the prefect on duty during one’s free time every half hour.
This presented a challenge not unlike trying to escape from Alcatraz. Instead of sharks impeding your swim to freedom, there was a cohort of prefects ready to hunt you down like a team of frenetic bounty hunters.
A carefully planned escape strategy needed to be thought out if I was ever to succeed in being the first boy in the school’s history to hit a home run. Clearly using the railway was not an option, but the airport was about twelve miles away and seemed to be a better prospect. As I was already gated for insubordination to a prefect, my window of opportunity to effect an escape was now very limited.
I had decided that flying down to London was my best option. I would arrange a rendezvous with a taxi somewhere at a recognised location to take me to the airport. In the interim, I had to sell off most of my prized Carnaby Street gear to fund the taxi and airfares. As well as this, I needed to improve my level of fitness and train up in one of the cross-country running teams. I would have only thirty minutes to sprint to my rendezvous before my escape was detected.
My level of planning had given me a degree of confidence that I might succeed, so when I reported to the prefect on duty for the last time, I was fully prepared to enact my escape. I ran like a frightened hare across the fields, not daring to even glance back in case I was being pursued: and, the further away from the school, the more I felt emboldened as my yoke of oppression began to lighten.
Thankfully, the taxi was there waiting for me and we made the short distance to the airport in plenty of time. By now, I assumed that the bounty hunters were already looking for me and would have headed for the railway station. My destination was my uncle’s house in Sutton where I eventually arrived unannounced.
Having reached Victoria station in less than two hours from leaving school, I thought that I ought to notify my housemaster as to my whereabouts.
“It’s Knight here sir. Just to let you know that I am now in London and won’t be returning.”
The housemaster replied: “Don’t be so silly boy, where the hell are you?”
“I’m at Victoria station”, I said.
“That’s impossible”, he replied. “If you don’t return immediately, you’ll be expelled”.
“Then you’ll have to expel me”, I said, and hung up on him.
So began my transition from institutional to organisational life. I was now able to forge an identity that for once afforded a degree of self-esteem. The control, coercion and intimidation were finally over.