Just after I started Third Form, aged 13 I got into a stand-up row with the RE Master. I’d got on my high horse about something and he made the mistake of telling me I was wrong.

The rest of the Form gleefully watched the entertainment which was probably part of the reason for the red faced Master suddenly shouting “that’s it, McLachlan you’re on detention!”

Believe it or not that was my first one. Up until then I’d always managed to avoid detention by playing the “but I live miles away, Sir” card which got detention commuted to an essay on “why I shouldn’t…” or some such twaddle.

I tried that on the RE Master and failed, I was on detention for 45 minutes from the end of school bell and the journey home was my problem.

In the way that things seemed to happen to me it was gym and violin day so I had my satchel, my gym kit and my violin to carry. To make things worse it had been raining since lunch.

We weren’t on the phone at home and neither of my sisters would notice my absence from the coach. My after school activities were nothing to do with them and by the same token theirs were no concern of mine. The coach left at its usual time without me.

The final item on this list of woes was that I didn’t have any money on me for bus fare. I didn’t just have a long journey in front of me, it was a 7 mile walk.

Before anyone thinks ‘duty of care’ this was 1966 and I was 13. My duty was to be a well behaved schoolboy, if I failed in that duty I faced the consequences.

Finally allowed to leave I settled my satchel on my back, hoisted my gym kit over my left shoulder, settled my violin case in my right hand and started the walk home.

By the time I’d covered almost a mile I was soaked through to my skin, I didn’t have a raincoat with me. The rain was clearly set in for the night so there was no point in taking shelter, on I trudged.

Several cars went by sending waves of water over me that just added more misery and then one car’s brake lights went on, it stopped and the passenger door opened.

I knew every car in my home village and I’d never seen this one before. The driver was a complete stranger, a man of about Dad’s age. Delighted at the prospect of saving about 6 wet miles, I readily got in putting my luggage behind the seat.

He asked me where I lived and was appalled at how far I had to walk but he had a good laugh at my explanation. He said that he lived in Petworth but would run me to Lurgashall. I could have hugged him, he was going miles out of his way just to help a soggy kid.

At no point during the journey did anything untoward happen by word or deed and he didn’t just take me to the village, he got me to guide him right to my home. Thanking him fervently I retrieved my gear and got out of the car, obeying his instruction to just run for the house.

I breezed in through the back door to be met by a look of thunder on Mum’s face and was ordered to stand just where I was on the doormat and not drip  water all over the place.

Mum went to get a towel then ordered me to strip naked and dry myself before taking one step further into the kitchen. Thankfully my sisters were all in other rooms so at least I didn’t have that embarrassment to deal with.

Once dry I was allowed to sit by the Rayburn, just wearing the towel and feeling vulnerable. Then the questions started.

Mum knew exactly what my extra-curricular activities were and always made sure that on those days I had bus fare so I could take the long journey via Petworth and reduce the walk home to a mere mile from Lane End.

Why had I missed the coach? There was no point in a lie so I admitted the argument with the RE Master and the subsequent detention which wasn’t as much of a problem as I’d expected.

If I’d been in detention why was I home so early? That was the killer question but again there was no point in lying, she knew perfectly well that I didn’t have any money. I timidly admitted that I’d accepted a lift from a complete stranger.

Mum went mad! Before I knew what was happening I’d lost my towel and was over her knee getting the thrashing of a lifetime.

After that, while I was still howling I got a long, loud lecture, Didn’t I realise what could happen to children who took lifts from strangers?

I tried rationalising that nothing bad had happened but was arguing from a hopeless position. I knew perfectly well that what I’d done had been stupid and irresponsible.

The plea that I was wet and cold cut no ice, not that I thought it would and I was abruptly dismissed to have a hot bath before coming back down for some tea.

After tea I did my violin practice and then sat at the kitchen table, as near to the Rayburn as I could get to do my prep. I didn’t even make it through one subject before a feverish headache started and Mum had to help me up to bed which was the end of my school week.

Dad was on late duty so I was well asleep by the time he got home. The next morning he came into my room and, ignoring the fact that I was ill gave me a fearful telling off. I thought I was in for another thrashing but Mum had clearly convinced him that she’d made me suitably penitent.

He did make it very clear that if I ever did anything like that again he’d deal with me, whether Mum had already done so or not. I was fairly sure that his big leather belt would be involved.

Not very long after that my bottom and that belt did become acquainted but not because I took a lift from a stranger, his threat worked on that score.

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