St Michael`s was one of those very rarefied, very Anglo-Catholic establishments where they rejoiced in more religious paraphernalia and theatricality than the entire Vatican. More incense-swinging, more crucifixes, more gold tassels, more rose petals, more holy mothers, more God knows what. Three times a day they played the Angelus. When you heard it, you had to stop whatever you were doing, do the Hail Marys in your head, and then return to what you were doing. Like it would come in the middle of a Latin class. I`m just conjugating the love verb, amo, amas, amat, and doingggg! you have to stand up, go through the whole Angelus, mother-of-God thing and then crack on with amamus, amatis, amant. Sir! Because, if you didn`t, Whack! Cane. Belt. Education by fear. And the really funny thing was they wouldn`t tolerate bullying between peers. Prefects could bash you with a slipper, but you weren`t allowed to give each other a rough time. Like who do you think you are? You haven`t yet earned the privilege of being violent.
John Hurt