What the Good Schools Guide Says About Teddies

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THE GOOD SCHOOLS GUIDE

Ethos and heritage

Our story starts in the tenth century, when St Edward the Martyr was murdered at Corfe Castle by his stepmother. Having offered our hero a glass of wine and a kiss (it had been a long day’s hunting), Queen Aelfthrith had him stabbed in the back by her servant. A sorry tale, still commemorated by the school’s cup and dagger emblem, though

thankfully it hasn’t dampened pupils’ enjoyment of a good knees-up; plenty of parties (‘not horrible ones’, parents tell us), plenty of jollity, plenty of being a teenager. School’s advice in run-up to Christmas was spot-on: ‘When all goes well parties are fun and a very good thing... And with due care and attention they almost always do go very well.’ This is a happy school which doesn’t take life too seriously: ‘We’re so pleased because she just has more of a laugh,’ says one mum whose daughter joined from a high-octane day school. Centred around a handsome nineteenth-century quad, a Narnia tucked behind residential streets and shops. Woodstock Road divides campus in two: sports facilities and some boarding houses accessed through an underpass. ‘Quad side’ feels secluded, original neo-Gothic architecture working beautifully alongside sympathetic modern development. Charming chapel in one corner; tiny stained-glass window devoted to Kenneth Grahame depicts one of his children’s stories (alas no Ratty or Mole). Mr Chirnside’s study quiet and comfortable (‘v. nice sofas and lamps,’ we noted, clearly feeling those to be important matters); his two big glossy Labs swing their tails as they potter to and fro. School feels very sociable and warm; certainly the first time this reviewer’s been made a cuppa by the head’s wife in their kitchen. Indeed, parents gush about dinners hosted by the Chirnsides – ‘everything was nice, civilised, informal’ – allowing them to meet each other. Pupils needn’t feel jealous: boarding houses being overhauled one-by-one. We saw Apsley, which had a touch of gentlemen’s club about it with its leather armchairs

and piano in the corner: all characteristically tasteful. House kitchen spotless. Main dining room food gets mixed reviews (for the record, we enjoyed our salmon and noodles). Silver lining? ‘He’s learnt to use a toaster and a microwave’. Deliveroo kept busy. Parents universally told us that they sent their children to Teddies because they reckoned they’d be nicer people for it: and what greater compliment? ‘They emerge as lovely humans’, says one mum; ‘At Henley regatta, people come up to them and say, ‘good luck, Teddies!’ because they’re just great kids,’ says another. Indeed, we’ve long had a soft spot for the school universally known by its childhood nickname, a school for good eggs, albeit occasionally those with a twinkle in their eye. Teddies was going to be OK in life, even if it was headed for a C in its GCSE physics. Is it growing up, getting all serious on us?

A positive place... this is a happy school