“BUT THAT’S JUST how it’s always been done,” the grey-haired, tweed-trimmed headmaster said, somewhat mystified, somewhat incredulous and very annoyed.

So this is what it’s been reduced to, I thought despairingly as I sat opposite him and his wife at their wooden kitchen table. I looked over their shoulders at the pale peach walls and framed dried-flower collection and then focused my gaze back on the plate of chocolate digestives placed in front of me in a feigned attempt at civility. I felt as though I had walked into a picture from Country Life and realised that my plea for change in the school’s attitude towards girl “gappers” had come down to an argument over one minor example of the inequality that enveloped the school.