On one blissful, cloudless day during the summer holidays of 1972, Charles Spencer, who had just turned eight, surveyed the scene in his mother’s garden in Sussex. He’d spent the morning cycling and swimming, and a barbecue was being prepared. He remembers thinking: ‘This is too good to last.’ And he was right. A date
Maidwell s headmaster, John Porch - whom we nicknamed Jack - enjoyed beating us with a slipper for the most trivial of offences, such as talking after lights out, says EARL SPENCER