So this term is finally over. Thank god. And it all ended with the Christmas dance or, as they are wont to call it these days aping our transatlantic cousins, the ‘prom’. Not too disastrous, especially as it was organised by that irritating new kid William McKenzie. Why he bothers i’ll never know.

The thing about these dances is that when mixed with the alcohol they claim they aren’t drinking the kids see them as a such a massive moment in their lives that they end up declaring undying love to some girl or boy in their year. Take that Simon Cooper – he’s spent all year mooning after Carli D’Amato (everyone can see it, it’s blindingly obvious) and rather than talk to her like a normal human being he chooses the prom to tell her his real feelings.

And as for that bloody Jay Cartwright – i don’t know where he learnt to DJ but it sounded like it was at a deaf school.