She refused to “act as schoolmarm” and told me, “You're not going to spend the next twelve years with your nose in a textbook.” A timetable was devised, more by trial and error than by design. On Mondays I'd help the gardeners in the fields. Depending on what time of year it was, I'd learn to plant seeds, thin saplings, weed, deadhead and harvest. I got to know how to treat insect infestations and how crops differed from dry season to wet. Mother always used to tell me that being taught about life on the plantation was “far more useful than anything you'll find in a book”. Tuesday was the day we went to town. Mother called this “life skills”, which mostly meant shopping – something she was particularly good at and something I particularly loathed. On Wednesday mornings, Mother made me study art, which I liked about as much as shopping, but Wednesday afternoons were great. That was when Father stopped wearing his tie and serious expression and replaced them with a short-sleeve shirt and smile.
