Disciplined in the Bamboo Suite

by Paul Markham

  However, it was not James Penbury who was the cause of concern, but his 23-year old daughter, Sophia Louise, a graduate in Graphic Arts who had recently returned from a school in Switzerland, where she had spent several months following graduation at the start of the previous summer, and who had succeeded in obtaining a greatly-coveted place on an advanced horsemanship course at Burrowbeck, a well-known training centre that had furnished several candidates for the national Olympic equestrian team as well as for other major international competitions.

  Lady Catherine looped her arm through that of her husband and together they walked to the wooden door, framed luxuriantly between a thriving pair of clematis plants. Sir Digby opened the door and ushered Lady Catherine through into the market garden. The two gardeners busy at work close by in the vegetable beds, looked up and briefly acknowledged the presence of their employers before returning to their respective tasks. Sir Digby and Lady Catherine greeted the two men with their customary polite warmth, and Sir Digby then closed the door behind him before setting off with Lady Catherine along the well-manicured gravel paths, flanked by low and neatly-pruned privet hedges.

  Slowly, they made their way to the fountain and large pond at the far side of the garden, in a sun-trap of a corner where apricots, peaches and figs grew on healthy trees attached to the 10-foot high brick wall. Sir Digby unlocked the door to a small greenhouse and took two cushions from a cupboard behind the door. He removed the polythene wrappings and walked across to the swing seat where, having placed the cushions in the appropriate place, he and Lady Catherine sat down, as they had done on countless occasions in the past, to allow their conversation to merge with the sounds of life in a spacious and thriving garden surrounded on three sides by dense woodland.

  "Is your hip really painful today, Digger?" she enquired, in a soft tone that, at one and the same time, melted Sir Digby's resistance and drove him almost to distraction, since he was only too well aware of how easily his bride was able to insinuate her subtle wisdom and the well-practised art of her femininity into his mind.

  The question had, in fact, been rhetorical, since Lady Catherine knew only too well that nothing exacerbated these symptoms as markedly as times of emotional upheaval in Digger's life. She realised just how great was the quandary in which he found himself, and she was applying her mind actively to the task of relieving Sir Digby of some of a burden that he would have preferred not to have to shoulder.

  ---oOo---

  Lady Catherine listened attentively as Sir Digby recounted the details provided by the vet, and repeated the account that he had received from Nigel Beddows of what had been observed very early that morning, when the head of Sir Digby's stables had been out with his two labradors, walking up the fellside to check on the state of the ground following a torrential downpour during the previous weekend.

  The man and his dogs had been standing semi concealed behind a large gorse bush when the sound of a horse's steps drew their attention down towards the beck, far below, where a beautiful young chestnut mare was trotting along, in obvious discomfort, with a young rider on her back. Nigel did not hear exactly what the rider said to the horse, but he did hear the sharp crack of her whip as it struck the horse's left flank.

  The dogs instinctively cocked their ears in perfect harmony in response to the sharp sound, whilst Nigel watched with almost complete incredulity as the horse moved on under duress. He realised only too well that this horse was none other than Artemis, and he had a very good idea as to who the rider was, since the other girls would not have been up at the stables so early in the morning.

  It could only be Sophia Penbury, a long-stay guest at Ardway Hall. Nigel racked his brain and tried to think how it could possibly have happened that Sophia had wilfully disregarded Sir Digby's instruction that the vet's orders for total rest must be complied with in full. Surely Sophia had been told of that. Even if she had not, there was a label hanging conspicuously on the stable door, stating in large letters that Artemis was not to be moved without the permission of Mr Bentley, the vet. Nigel whistled to the dogs and brought them to heel as he turned and headed back along the two-mile path that led along the fell side to Ardway Hall.

  Sophia had been removing her helmet when Nigel and the labradors entered the stable yard, and her reply to Nigel's enquiry as to why Artemis had been taken out met with a curt and distinctly uncharacteristic retort to the effect that Sir Digby, not the stable lad, decided what was done with the livestock. Nigel had been completely dumbstruck, since this was not the Sophia whom he had watched from season to season, as she had grown up over the years.

  He had developed a great respect and liking for Sophia's parents and had spent many an hour with Sir Digby and James, talking about bloodstock and about equestrian competitions. Sophia, for her part, had always been demure, with just a hint of youthful cheek and with a definite twinkle in her eyes. Rudeness, however, had been alien to her. James and Eleanor Penbury would never have countenanced such behaviour in their daughter.

  ---oOo---

  Sir Digby turned to his wife and looked at her with a very sad expression on his face.

  "Do you know, Trinny, I am at a loss to understand what has happened to young Sophia. I know she is polite with us, even if her confidence does sometimes appear to have crossed too far beyond the line that separates it from the fears and doubts that used to make her so unhappy, but I have now heard from three different members of staff just how rude and dismissive she is of those whom she regards as 'the hired help'. Can you imagine what James and Eleanor would say?"

  Lady Catherine nodded in a form of mute acknowledgement that said, 'I hear what you are saying, so carry on ...'

  Sir Digby took his silent cue and continued. "Do you know where I think it went wrong?" As is the way with military gentlemen who pose certain types of question, there was little point in waiting for a response that was neither solicited nor expected. "Ever since Sophia went to stay with the daughter of that Russian post-perestroika billionaire in the Auvergne, she has been becoming cockier by the day, and I have to say that I'm none too happy about it. I doubt if James would allow her to talk to his staff like that."

  Sir Digby's attention was caught by a cabbage white butterfly that was flitting between blossoms on a cultivated blackberry bush and, for a moment, he became totally absorbed, as if allowing himself time to cool down. The butterfly flitted with a gawky lack of dexterity up into an apple tree and disappeared momentarily from view. Sir Digby. "However, my most serious concern is with Artemis, since I am totally at a loss to explain how Sophia came to ill-treat her in that manner, as it is totally out of character."

  Sir Digby and Lady Catherine swung silently for a few reflective moments on the swing chair, as a dazzling blue dragon-fly hovered luminescently over water-lily leaves in a corner of the substantially-sized and very deep pond, close to the fountain. A sudden splash prompted the dragon-fly to rise swiftly to elude the jaws of a golden carp that was exhibiting signs of curiosity rather than of hunger.

  Lady Catherine looked at her husband again and smiled. She squeezed his hand gently and spoke in her measured, unhurried tone that had such a therapeutic effect upon Sir Digby. "Digger, I'm going inside and I'm going to ring Eleanor and have a word with her about this, to see what she thinks. I'll ask Hannah to bring you a tray of coffee out to the garden before she goes home. Leave it with me for a few minutes, please."

  Lady Catherine leaned across and kissed Sir Digby on the cheek, then rose unhurriedly and elegantly before turning to head back towards the Hall. Sir Digby followed the hypnotic gyrations of her elegant ultra-feminine gait and smiled to himself as he recalled the effect that this had always had upon him. He turned again towards the pool and allowed himself to be semi-mesmerised by the fluid movement of the healthy shoal of carp as they followed one another around the murky waters and disappeared one by one under the shade of the water-lilies.

  ---oOo---

  Sir Digby had lunched at the Black Boar in
Great Harringham, with the proprietor of a fishing tackle dealership where he did a considerable amount of business, both on his own account and on behalf of some of the guests who visited Ardway Hall during the game fishing season. However, on this occasion, neither the legendary home-made beef and potato stew in Guinness nor the worrying state of the Harring Beck and of the poor fish stocks, could command his entire attention, leaving the angling equipment retailer slightly bemused.

  Meanwhile, at Ardway Hall, Lady Catherine had spent two and a half hours with an increasingly agitated young woman, to whom she had spelled out, in very kind and discreet terms, the consequences of her foolhardiness, wilfulness and downright lack of consideration.

  She had been sympathetic, as, with the weight of evidence building against her, Sophia had explained how, whilst staying at the luxurious château owned by Alexei Gulanov, an entrepreneur who had made an unbelievable amount of money from the collapse of the Soviet regime in the aftermath of the Gorbachev era - so unbelievable, in fact, that it had not been comfort alone that had prompted him to seek a heavily guarded retreat in France - she had fallen heavily under the influence of Ludmilla, his elder daughter, with whom she had been at school in Switzerland.

  She had witnessed total contempt for both Russian and French servants on the Russian billionaire's estate, and she had encountered a hardness of attitude that she had at first found extremely unattractive. However, being young and impressionable, and away from the influence of her parents, she had found herself unconsciously slipping into the ways and practices of the headstrong young Russian girl, to whom people and animals were there solely for her pleasure, to do her bidding. Her father's wealth had strengthened her position considerably in terms of influence and manipulative capacity.

  By the time Sophia had, under the skilled and unobserved guidance of Lady Catherine, stripped away these recent layers of unpleasant behavioural veneer, she had come very close to being the Sophia whom Sir Digby and Lady Catherine had known and loved for so many years. Thus, by the time Lady Catherine rang Eleanor, Sophia's mother, the girl was in tears and had apparently become quite disoriented in her thinking and speech.

  Lady Catherine was a kind-hearted and deeply compassionate woman of considerable strength of character, a woman who would put herself out for those in genuine need, regardless of who they were, but who reserved an icy contempt for anyone of whom she could confidently say that they had no inclination whatsoever to help themselves in a positive manner. Her conversation with Eleanor had been somewhat staccato during the early stages, following the usual exchange of pleasantries, this simply because Eleanor was almost unable to believe what she was hearing.

  At the end of the conversation, some ninety minutes later, both Lady Catherine and Sophia had spoken at length to Eleanor, and all three women had ultimately agreed as to what the correct course of action would be.

  Lady Catherine claimed no supernatural powers whatsoever, but when Sir Digby rang her to tell her that he needed to call at the garage to have an intermittent fault investigated, she could have let out a loud 'Hallelujah!' since she had been trying to work out how to do what needed to be done before her husband returned. Thus, his announcement that he would not be home until after 6.00 p.m. had been the best news for which she could have hoped.

  ---oOo---

  Nigel Beddows was in Artemis' stable, examining her left foreleg, when the two women appeared at the door. After lowering the injured limb carefully, he stood up, wiped his hands on a cloth and walked across to the door. He could not fail to notice that Sophia had been in tears, even though she was trying to put on a brave face.

  She looked the stable manager straight in the eye and, with a tone that was no less sincere for being faltering, she spoke clear words of deep contrition, feeling her tears welling up again when, having apologised for her contemptuous abuse of his standing in the household, she sought to address an apology she could not utter in intelligible form to the animal that she had abused and marked in her arrogance and wilfulness. Nigel nodded silently, smiled slightly and moved to shake hands with Sophia, who accepted the gesture with a palpable sense of relief.

  Nigel turned his attention to Lady Catherine. "I think her pain is easing now, Lady Catherine, and the other injury appears to be settling down. I have treated it topically, and as far as I can see, there will be no scarring where the whip struck her. Peter Bentley doesn't think we have anything to worry about there either. As for the inflammation, we'll just have to wait and see what develops."

  Lady Catherine smiled warmly at Nigel and thanked him for his efforts in caring for Artemis. She reached forward and stroked her husband's mare gently on her beautiful face. Two dark, limpid eyes looked straight at her and two elegantly shaped ears flicked forward in attentive response to the kind gesture.

  The mare shuffled about lightly for a few moments, before settling down again as the two women took their leave of the stable manager and, acknowledging en route two girls from the town who were training in the yard, headed back towards the Hall.

  Once inside the house, Lady Catherine went to her suite whilst Sophia headed for her rooms in the guest wing. Lady Catherine took a quick shower, before donning a white silk blouse and a three-quarter length Harris tweed skirt. She checked her attire in the mirror, adjusted her hair, then looked at her watch. Slowly, she made her way out of the room, across the landing with its finely carved wooden balustrades and down to the hall, where her leather soles made a sharp, rhythmical sound, suggestive of a woman with a purpose in her mind, as they made their way across the tiled floor to Sir Digby's study.

  She closed the study door behind her and walked round behind the imposing mahogany desk. She removed a small key from a drawer, then made her way to the narrow cupboard in the far corner of the room, beyond the French windows. She opened the door to the cupboard with what could have passed for reverence.

  Carefully, she took a short, slender cane with a crook handle from one of the hooks that housed a range of disciplinary implements, extending from a soft leather paddle to a heavy cane of the type used in earlier times on senior boys at Sir Digby's old school. Taking a cloth, she wiped the smaller cane from end to end, then closed the cupboard door and walked back to the desk, where she laid it parallel to the long edge, in the middle of the desk.

  Lady Catherine walked behind a screen to the pantry and opened the door of the refrigerator. She removed a small bottle of mineral water and then closed the door again. She collected a pair of cut glass tumblers from the cupboard, wiped them down with a tea-towel, then put all three items onto a small silver tray, which she carried out to the coffee table in the study. She walked across to the French windows and closed the vertical blinds. She then returned to the sofa and picked up a cushion, which she carried across to the desk, where she placed it in front of the cane.

  Finally, Lady Catherine returned behind the screen and picked a coat hanger from one of the hooks. This she placed on the desk, alongside the cushion. Glancing at her watch, she noted that the agreed time had almost arrived. Moving thoughtfully around the study, she was still checking that all preparations had been made properly when she heard quiet footsteps approaching the study door.

  Lady Catherine turned in response to a virtually inaudible knock and walked across to open the door. She smiled kindly, in a manner that did nothing to compromise her authority, as a visibly shaken young woman entered, dressed in a white T-shirt and a pair of jogging bottoms.

  Sophia felt a lump rising in her throat and a tight knot forming in her stomach and in her lower abdomen as she entered the study and as her eye fell instantly upon the instrument that was about to visit her with correction. She felt a great urge to talk endlessly, anything to put off the deed, yet she could muster no words. She felt an almost unbearable urge to run from the place, yet her legs refused to move. They were finding it difficult enough to support her.

  Just as it is said that the entire lifespan of a condemned person is re-run in an instant at
the last moment, so Sophia's mind was whisked back to her last day at school, when her mother had settled a long-overdue account. She remembered how flippant and dismissive she had been, making so light of the experience, yet now, here she was, in exactly the same situation.

  Nonetheless, being the daughter of James and Eleanor Penbury had bequeathed to her a legacy of strength of personality and of resolve in the face of adversity. Thus it was that, instinctively, she walked across the silent room to the desk and stood a couple of feet away from it, her hands clasped clammily behind her back. Trembling slightly, she followed the movements of Lady Catherine behind her and re-ran the words her mother had spoken to her earlier that day as, between them, the three women had worked out how best to resolve the matter.

  Sophia braced herself with a start as she felt Lady Catherine's hand rest gently on her right shoulder. Lady Catherine addressed her in deceptively quiet tones. "Sophia, take your bottoms off, please, and hang them on the coat hanger, then take your knickers off and put them in the pocket of your bottoms. Then go and hang the coat hanger on the hook on the study door, after which I would like you to return to the desk, place the cushion in front of your lower abdomen, then bend over the desk as far as you can. Do you understand?"

  Sophia nodded and fought valiantly to bring her collapsing resolve under control and to stabilise her legs. Lady Catherine walked away from Sophia, picked up the cane, then walked slowly along the front of the bookshelves, as if seeking a particular volume. She rested the cane lightly across her left palm and tapped very slowly.