The School Pages

French Exchange, Trouville 1980

There are many shops in France that we have over here, the Co-op for example. In the shops you can buy Mars bars, Kit-kats, Pepsi-cola. You buy bottles of fresh water, as you can't drink the tap-water.

Post By Mandy Keohane
The Canoe Club

The members of the Canoe Club meet every Tuesday and Wednesday lunch-times and on Thursday after school in order to improve the standard of our canoeing. At this stage most people have achieved the Eskimo roll which is used when you have capsized in order to get you upright.

This year Mr. Beattie has made a canoe trailer. Also he is organising a trip to a place called Rock in Cornwall for a week during the summer holidays. For the ten people going on the trip, Mr Beattie is also organising a weekend at Calshot where we will camp and see how good we are at sea canoeing. Also he is taking us on the Basingstoke canal for practice. On this holiday we are having expeditions and also surfing. All those going are looking forward to it.

Post By John Stovin
The Visitor

The planet hung in space like a giant jewel. Its clouds gave way to countries as the ship approached.

John was very happy. This would be a record, the hundredth life-bearing planet he had discovered, an average of one every two weeks. He was happy.

He made the log entries quickly, looking forward to landing on the planet. He would be a hero and would get into the galactic record books.

He had checked the computer on the development of the planet. It was all there: the wheel, the pulley, the mass labour, atomic energy. They had all been discovered and put to great use. Soon their space stations should come into view.

He checked the computer for their positions. The figures clicked out. Nothing ... nothing ... nothing ... nothing at all, no space stations. He flicked the computer on to audio.

"Computer, your readings show that there are no sizeable artificial satellites in orbit. Is this true?"

"Affirmative,' the computer answered.

"But they have reached Scientific Status Number 5."

"Affirmative," the computer replied again.

"Then where do they do their experiments in genetic, atomic and laser engineering?"

"On the surface of the planet."

John was dumbfounded. How could any race be so stupid as to do these types of experiments on their own planet?

It was a tough decision to make but he made it. No, no planet like this could be exposed to the Federation. They were too dangerous. It would spoil his record, his fame, but it didn't matter; this planet must never learn about the Federation.

John hurried to wipe out the log, wishing he had never even heard of this damned planet called Earth.

Post By Jeremy Rowe
Third Year 1980


P. Baker, C. Bendall, J. Boulter, D. Fisher, D. Gardener, C. Hilleard, S. Kirkpatrick, A. L'Estrange, P. Logue, J. McLaren, J. McPake, D. Rodrigues,P. Simon, J. Stovin, J. Geoghean, N. Atkins, J. Cox, A. Green, K. Hand, H. Jameson, J. Miller, F. Norris, J. Roberts, T. Scardarella, A. Turnbull, C. Wickings, L. Wilkey, M. Peck.


S. Bowers, T. Carregal, J. Casey, D. Chandler, C. Diaz, P. Fink, C. Hawes, D. Haydon, C. Ifil, D. Lomas, R. McQuade, G. Marshall, P. Red, M. Staniford, N. Williams, E. Attridge, S. Burton, S. Cox, A. Jallow, R. Laxton, M. McIver, W. Murray, C. Shepheard, K. White, D. Wykes, S. Gallagher.


P. Cope, A. Deverell, C. Flanagan, G. Hale, D. Houe, G. Jay, G. Lafferty, M. Morris, P. Panther, M. Pimm, M. Shepherd, B. Stallard, L. Wood, L. Burton, A. Codyre, S. Connelly, B. Craig, T. Flood, V. Gammon, E. Godfrey, M. Long, S. McClement, A. O'Brien, H. Boyle.


W. Cruse, J. Chappell, G. Chiswell, S. Dibdin, I. Dudley, J. Furlong, S. Jackson, F. Mezzullo, J. Rowe, V. Stemp, S. Tynan, A. Wimlett, V. Balloqui, P. Clegg, A. Collings, E. Guiliano, C. Hogan, N. Kayes, A. McClaren, J. O'Connell, J. Pigden, Y. Thomas, R. Welch.


E. Alejos, G. Boulter, S. Burt, G. Evans, C. Faulkner, L. Fenn, F. Fallon, S. Glynn, J. Lally, P. Mallins, D. Manton, T. McGoughan, A. Stocchetti, S. Sully, A. Wallace, C. Attridge, L. Bowen, A. Lenon, L. Lyster, C. McEnhill, L. Molloy, S. Reneaux, W. Robinson, K. Saunders, A. Smith, G. Smith.


B. Brown, R. Coles, S. Dennehy, C. Ellis, N. Hallett, A. Hughes, A. James, G. Kidd, B. Lambkin, T. Lydon, M. McBride, P. Mayhew, R. O'Callaghan, J. Shannon, P. Simmons, M. Elsworth, F. Fry, L. Godbold, L. Lindsey-Clark, H. Lucas, C. Mina, S. Pearce, B. Skinner, H. Stanton, K. Temple, M. Tuite, C. Wigley.

Post By Magazine
The Bells

The bells were ringing on a clear Sunday morning. their sound filled the air and reached the woman where she sat, silent, withered old hand on the bedclothes. She heard the ringing and knew that the time was near.

In a clean, impersonal room she crouched: coiled white hair, dim vacant eyes.

Misty images of her life rose behind her papery lids: blurred faces, speaking her name; people who were relics of a bygone age, an age she had known; people whose every joy and sorrow she had shared.

She watched, recognising the familiar features of faces which had left her long ago, left her lonely and old. Friends and family she had loved, whose love she had lost, and now at last felt again.

The bells filled her head. Remembering a November morning when every bell had rung joyously, she saw uniformed soldiers; brothers and uncles in khaki.

The bells rang louder and the images grew stronger, tugging at her. Their voices were calling nearer. They were more real, more solid now than the bed, the room where she sat. Their hands, strong and warm, led her forward. They said her name, knowing her.

The bells were unbearably loud now in her mind, but as she went forward they began to recede, further into the distance. Until there was nothing, nothing but silence.

Post By Rebecca Laxton

They say it's my age, but it's ME.
Anything wrong, it's my age.
"You're not a child", but I am.
"You're not an adult", but I am.
They say that I'm changing, I know,
But this change is painful and slow.
I want to be MYSELF, not a teenager.
I want a lot of things, but I'M a teenager.

Post By Sara Pearce
From Shakespeare to Shaffer Via Stoppard

During the first sixth months of this year our students have compentently performed in Twelfth Night, Stoppard's After Magritte and Shaffer's The Private Ear. All three were technically difficult and demanding in acting ability. The students' dedication and hard work helped to give parents and friends two very entertaining evenings.

Twelfth Night was chosen because it was the '0' level set book. The students were told to learn the words over the summer, and they were almost word perfect on nights of the performances. This was a considerable feat, for the play is full of Elizabethan jokes that modern writers still argue about. The costumes were excellent and made surprisingly at a cost of £10, Mrs Jenner adapting skilfully costumes used for previous plays. Eighty pounds profit was made and given to Mr Madden to help pay for the school's new public address system.

After Magritte was acted and stage-managed by the Sixth Form drama students, offering the play as part of their public examination. It was the second Stoppard play in which they had performed and they managed the difficult pace and the theatrical gimmickery with great competence.

Perhaps the most courageous cast of all was made up of three Fourth Year pupils in Shaffer's Private Ear. Again it was a slick modern play which is taxing even for experienced professional actors. The cast had rehearsal problems caused by illness. The boy who played 'the classical music fanatic' who cannot converse with women, created the loneliness and pathos of the situation memorably.

The performances were of such quality that many of us will be grateful to these Fourth, Fifth and Sixth Year actors for their hard and dedicated work and for their consideration and thought for the teachers helping with the productions.

Post By Magazine
The Private Ear

The lights lowered and the noise from the crowd died down. We all wished each other good luck and took up our positions. As soon as the lights came up the butterflies in our stomachs disappeared.

It was March the nineteenth and the first public performance of The Private Ear. Helen Boyle, Jeremy Rowe and I had been rehearsing for a month or so. We were in our positions, Helen off right, Jeremy on stage, and I was in the curtains when Jeremy uttered "Bob, Bob, I've arrived, and to prove it, I'm here." The play had begun.

It was the start of a gruelling forty-five minutes. At the end the audience applauded. It was a success, but short-lived for we all helped to get the stage changed for the sixth year play, After Magritte. Only after that could we relax. Everything was successful.

Post By Laurence Fenn