It’s Sunday 27 May 1980, and I am sitting in a field in England. The field is a long way from home. It belongs to a preparatory school in Sussex. I don’t come from money: single-parent family, child benefits, no car, no phone, perpetually skint. But my mum went through teacher training and, unable to find a job in south Wales, applied for a post in a boarding school in England, the deal being that I went with her and got educated for free.
The experience
