Aged 12, I sat hunched at the top of the stairs, listening to my parents argue late into the night.
The next day, as Dad drove me to school - a selective private girls' school 20 minutes from our house - he told me that he and Mum had grown apart. There were rumours that he'd been seen with a blonde.
I feared they'd divorce, but it hadn't occurred to me that when their marriage ended, so would my privileged education.
I was happy at that school. There were just 90 pupils in the year, and it was a beautiful building, centuries old, 비닉스 사이트 in picturesque grounds. It had every facility you could ever want: vast sports pitches; art studios; our own theatre. We did ballet, and sang in the chamber choir, too.
Uniform regulations were strict. Our skirts had to be below-the-knee, and at assembly we'd all have to kneel so the teachers could check they were the right length.
¡Bienvenido!
