Party Lines

Daisy Waugh hears why state education is so attractive to smart West Londoners

Times like these, I must say, I’m just grateful I’m a bit-of-a-lefty. Aren’t you?

God, yes. Even so — it wasn’t a decision we took lightly. The kids’ futures and all that…

Well, it’s a break with tradition, isn’t it?

But times change. So I said to Nigel — and it’s not about the cost. Not in this day and age.

Of course not!

The more people — like us, you know what I mean — the more we agree to send our sprogs to these schools, the better the schools become…It’s a sort of social responsibility.

A moral obligation, more like!

And it’s for the benefit of the kids, too. You look at these sprogs, privately educated from tot-size, and they’re so…

Oh, they’re awful! My sister’s sprogs! Little Lord Fauntleroys!

They prance around in their posh uniforms like the world belongs to them. Mark my words, they’ll be mugged. Their parents don’t seem to realise that their selfishness is actually ruining their children’s chances.

I want my children to be citizens of the world. Not just citizens of some sort of cut-off elite.

I so agree! And yet these parents pay through the nose. Just so they can say they’re sending their children to Harrow or what-not. But frankly with so much equality — and everything — does it matter? Nobody cares!

I certainly don’t!

Me neither! Nigel went to Cranleigh, of course. Much good it did him. As did Nigel’s father…

Tim went to Radley.


And Daddy went to Stowe

Oh did he? How interesting. My father went to Rugby.

And of course both my brothers went to Stowe.

And then my brothers were packed off to Lancing for some funny reason…And interestingly my brother-in-law. Rather, that is, my brother’s wife’s brother, as is. He went to Eton.

Yes. Well. Bully for him. Of course Eton’s hopeless now. Jam-packed with the Asians. Nobody else stands a chance.

That’s the problem. Ha! We’ve been priced out of the market by the bloody Pakis! 


Sorry. Sorry. But you know what I mean…

Stowe’s a lovely school…

So, anyway, when do you hear?

Next week.

Same. Fingers crossed!

God knows what we’ll do if it’s a No. 



You gave them your parents’ London address, did you?

Absolutely. It’s 40 yards from the school. We’ve been to bloody church every Sunday.

Don’t tell a soul but if it’s a No, the parents have agreed they’ll stump up for Joshie.

Well, yes, that’s what I’m hoping. I think when Mummy understands it’s a reality that Ollie’d actually have to attend…one of the others…they’ll put the flat on the market. And then it’s watch out Cranleigh, here we come! 

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