"Yes, but..."
There was a quick knock at the door and it opened. They both turned in surprise.
"Pond's to the rescue!" announced Rachel. The two older girls looked at each other for a moment, signalling the end of their discussion, and turned to Rachel.
"Thanks, Rachel," said Julia, with a pained smile. "And Pond's is just what the doctor ordered. But how did you know?"
"Oh, Patterson was in our form room a few minutes ago whispering about how they found the paint and the brush in your desk - and cigarettes apparently?" she said with an admiring smile.
"Yes," said Julia unhappily. "The Worm, eh? Why doesn't that surprise me?" She looked at Gabrielle. "Anyway, who's going to do the honours?" she asked, indicating the Pond's and glancing from Rachel to Gabrielle.
"I will," said Rachel, unscrewing the lid of the pot. "On your front, please, Bennett, and show us your stripes."
They all giggled. Julia knelt on the edge of Gabrielle's bed by the door, reached under her skirt to lower her knickers and then lay down on her front. Gabrielle crossed her arms and made way for Rachel as she sat on the edge of the bed, a dollop of the cool cream ready on her fingers. Gabrielle stepped forward and lifted Julia's skirt very gently out of the way.
"Phew! ... Gosh!" muttered the two girls at the sight of the cane marks. Rachel touched the cream very tentatively to the middle of Julia's right buttock and began to smear it carefully in a circular motion, her touch as light as she could make it.
"Ow!" groaned Julia.
"Sorry!" said Rachel, dipping into the pot for more, which she applied to the left buttock. "By the way," she said, frowning with concentration as her fingers deftly distributed the white cream, "I asked Wilko about who it was that said I wanted to meet you in the Art room."
Julia turned her head. "Oh yes?"
"Yes," said Rachel. "She said she didn't know - some sixth former she said, brown hair, medium tall ... not very helpful really."
There was a silence.
"Oh yes, and there's something else," said Rachel. "I only remembered this later 'cause I was a bit distracted going to get whacked by Bainbridge in the changing-room ... but ... since when did Shirley become friends with Patterson?"
"What?" exclaimed Gabrielle and Julia simultaneously.
"Yes - when I was following Bainbridge they passed me in the corridor together - and they looked very pleased with themselves too."
"When was this?" asked Julia.
"Yesterday afternoon ... um ... about three o'clock I suppose."
Julia lifted herself onto her elbows and looked at Gabrielle meaningfully.
"What is it?" asked Rachel. The two older girls were staring wide-eyed at each other. Eventually Julia said,
"Well, Rache, it seems it might just be ... bloody hell! I can't believe it, really, it's too pathetic."
"What?" asked Rachel, looking from one to the other. Gabrielle spoke.
"I think it was Shirley who put the cigarettes in Julia's desk."
"You mean they weren't yours?" asked Rachel turning to Julia who shook her head. "But why would Shirley do that?"
"Good question," said Julia, lying down again. "And you can bet I'm going to get an answer."
---oOo---
Monday 11.04 a.m
There was much animated talk among the mistresses about the morning's events in class as they returned to the staffroom at break time. Mrs Palmer was regaling Miss Halsey and the Countess with an account of how she'd strapped three fourth-formers for repeatedly talking out of turn, and by the tea urn Mrs Beecham spoke loudly to Emily Stokes about not hesitating to summon her (they had adjoining form rooms) at the slightest sign of trouble.
Into this air of somewhat aggrieved hysteria Edith Bainbridge attempted to bring a semblance of order. "Ladies," she called, "once you've got your tea, can we have a quick gathering please?"
She seated herself at the head of the large table and waited for her colleagues to collect themselves and their beverages and find a place. She tapped her pen nervously on the palm of her left hand. Prudence Waring seated herself to her right, Margaret Dawson to her left, the latter joined almost immediately by Monica Gibson.
"The Headmistress has telephoned," Edith announced, "and she will be returning earlier than expected." A murmur of relief ran round the table. Edith hid the pang of hurt pride she felt at this, but marvelled at the same time at how thoroughly Verily had won the respect of the staffroom in such a short time this term. "She hopes to be with us by lunchtime. Meanwhile, how are you finding the girls?"
Eileen Palmer jumped in immediately. "Thoroughly over-excited, Edith. I had to give no fewer than three girls in 4A a good strapping for constant chatter, and the fifth-formers weren't much better."
"My Lower Sixth group seemed very distracted," said Emily Stokes. "Word seems to have spread like wildfire about your discovery in Bennett's desk. I heard about it myself from Wilson."
"And Bennett's a very popular girl," added Prudence, letting the implication of this hang in the air.
"I know, I know. It was only a week ago she was being carried aloft from the hockey field," said the Deputy Head, slightly impatiently. "However, cigarettes were discovered in her desk this morning and I felt I had no choice but to cane her for that. As you probably all know by now, I also found a small pot of black paint and a paint brush there too - almost certainly the ones used to ... to violate the crest - AND she had a black stain on her hand, indicating a recent use of the same black paint." She looked round, eyebrows raised in indignation. "And yet she denies she did it! Mind you, she denied knowing about the cigarettes as well and this isn't the first time she's been in trouble for smoking, so ... well, despite all that, I have agreed with Monica that we shall await Miss Markham's return."
"It's a very puzzling and difficult business," said Monica tactfully. "I can't help harbouring a sneaking suspicion however, that despite all the damning evidence, Bennett is in fact innocent, so I'm grateful, Edith, for your forebearance on the matter of the crest. And I'm sure time will reveal more."
"You may be right, Monica, though as you know I don't agree," responded Edith. "It seems perfectly clear cut to me. However, what's also troubling me is that we have Founder's day this Friday - October already - with parents and dignitaries coming - special events and much to prepare ... oh dear! I hope to high heaven this ghastly business isn't still hanging over our heads by then ... AND I hope Mr Arnold can rescue the crest in time."
There were nods and worried murmurs around the table.
"Meanwhile," said Edith, rising, "I urge you all to keep a tight rein. Junior staff, you mustn't hesitate to call upon any of us to administer a whacking at the first sniff of a cause, and don't bother with punishment slips - instant retribution is the order of the day."
Thus spurred by their Deputy Head, the mistresses of Cropton Hall rose purposefully from their seats and prepared to go forth once more.
---oOo---
Monday 11.45 a.m.
Seated beside Sir Wilfred in his Bentley, Verily Markham had felt increasingly uneasy the further north they'd driven. When she arrived at Althorp Hall, where she'd left her own car the day before, she informed Sir Wilfred that she felt she couldn't stay a moment longer than necessary, apologising profusely for the inconvenience of the lunch not taken. Sir Wilfred and her Ladyship had been very understanding, especially when a quick telephone call to the school had confirmed her fears. Edith had not been at all specific, but her tone had held enough scarcely disguised anger and frustration for Verily's unease to grow into an anxiety that demanded immediate action.
As she drove, she found herself in two minds: on the one hand she felt that natural worry and concern any leader has for the welfare of their charges in a time of trouble. What on earth was going on? What had got Edith so worked up? Was anyone hurt? What exactly was it that awaited her at Cropton Hall?
Running strangely parallel to this train of thought, however, was another, more relaxed, almost jo
yous feeling which came over her whenever she thought of Sir Stanlegh Meeth. She found herself pondering the age-old debate about free will and determinism and chuckling at her memories of the man's demeanour, the almost apologetic way in which he'd signalled his absolute power. As a young woman some twenty years earlier - in fact, she remembered the date exactly: it had been on her twenty-third birthday - she had realised with great clarity that, however much our Fates might be determined by whichever God or Gods we subscribe to, it made no difference to the fact that we must live our lives with as much love and honesty as we can.
Recalling Sir Stanlegh, she remembered too his plea: 'All must be redeemed'. This she felt confident of achieving, and so it was with a contented smile adorning her beautiful features that she drove on through Pickering, Middleton and Aislaby, reducing with each passing minute the distance between herself and her beloved Cropton Hall.
It has been said, however, that if you wish to make God laugh, tell Him your plans.
Such had been Verily's hurry to get back to the school that she'd failed to notice the petrol gauge of her Ford Anglia hovering on E (for Empty). When the car, a green two-door saloon, started to sputter and slow to a sorry halt about two miles past Wrelton, on the last stretch of the road to Cropton, she cursed silently and the anxiety she'd felt earlier regained the upper hand.
Having pulled over onto the grass verge, she got out and looked around. She knew the road well, and the location of her breakdown - or rather, the result of her foolish failure to ensure sufficient fuel - was not good news. It was at least two more miles to Cropton village and about the same to retrace her steps to Wrelton and this was a country road which saw very little traffic. She stood pondering her best course of action before deciding that Onwards was ever a better direction than Backwards. Taking up her handbag and locking the car door, she had covered barely fifty yards before she heard the sound of a motor in the distance behind her. She turned and stepped on to the edge of the road. It was a small yellow van and as it neared she could make out some writing on the side: PILL and SON. CHEMIST. CROPTON. She waved her arm and the vehicle slowed to a stop a few yards down the road. She hurried over as Mr Pill leaned across and opened the passenger door.
"Spot of bother with your motor, eh?" he called. "Hop in."
Verily climbed in gratefully and pulled the door shut.
"Where're you headed then?"
"Cropton Hall - the school."
"Oh aye ... are you one of t'mistresses?" asked Mr Pill.
"Yes, I am. In fact..."
"I called your Head the other day - some lass from t'school in my shop on a We'nsday. Impatient little minx she was - I 'ope she got a right wallopin' ... I 'ear they've brought back wallopin', eh? Bloody good thing, if you ask me..."
Verily sighed and decided not to reveal her role at the school. Mr Pill didn't appear to have recognised her voice from their brief telephone call, and he seemed a tiresome old man. When he continued to question her, trying to elicit more detail about the 'wallopin's', she became increasingly monosyllabic in her answers until he gave up.
They drove through the village and continued on to the school. Mr Pill pulled up on the gravel outside the main entrance and Verily climbed out, thanking him courteously.
"Always glad to 'elp, Ma'am," said Mr Pill. "Mind you keep those lasses' backsides good and sore, now!"
Verily closed the door and rolled her eyes, muttering, "Really! What a ghastly man!"
She made a mental note to ask Edith to make sure Pond's Cold Cream would be available in the school's Tuck Shop as soon as possible.
---oOo---
Monday 1.50 p.m.
The ground was strewn with broken pieces of fallen branches and the autumn leaves were deeper than ever as Rachel, Susan and Alice, togged up in their duffle coats against a chilly easterly, made their way up past the first XI pitch just after lunch. Rachel had gathered them for a serious talk - indeed, a painful talk. She and Susan had mulled everything over and were pretty sure it must have been Grace who'd given everything away by painting SWACK across the school crest. They hoped to get confirmation one way or the other from Alice, and then ... decide what on earth to do.
"Julia Bennett is going to get another caning," said Rachel earnestly, "almost certainly with Molly - she may even be expelled. And I know she didn't do it. Yes, they found the paint and the brush in her desk, and she had a black stain on her hand, so it looks like it's totally conclusive. But she says she didn't and that's good enough for me."
"We've got to DO something," said Susan. "We can't let that happen. She already got six of the best from Bainbridge for having cigarettes..."
"Which she also says she knew nothing about," added Rachel, "though she does smoke apparently." She gave the other two girls an excited glance. Alice could bear it no longer.
"It was ME," she burst out, "me and Grace." The other two caught each other's eye with a quick look of acknowledgement. "I'm sorry, Rachel. I know it was STUPID, and I did try to say so, but Grace was really ... well, there was no stopping her, and ... oh! I'm sorry, but it just seemed like such a good idea at the time. You know - girls under the cane arise! Well, we arised ... arose ... you know..."
"Oh Alice," said Rachel, plaintively, "I can understand that, but you've probably destroyed SWACK before we'd hardly begun. They're sure to investigate and want to know EVERYTHING about it, and we could all be in serious trouble."
"I know," quailed Alice. "My bum's been tingling all morning, Rache, just thinking about it. But what I don't understand is how the pot and the brush ended up in Julia's desk. We buried them in the woods in a really safe place. Unless it's not the same ones...?"
"No, it's got to be - that would be too much of a coincidence," said Rachel. "It's really strange, isn't it? You don't think ... Grace would have...?"
"NO!" said Alice. "Definitely not. She may be a bit mad, and she's definitely angry, 'specially after that strapping she got from Bainbridge, but she isn't a sneak. She would never do that, and especially not to Julia - she really admires Julia."
"So," said Susan, "we don't know who framed Julia, and we're still left with the problem of what we're going to do. We can't let Julia take the blame and get expelled or caned again. We just can't."
Alice moaned. "Oh God! I wish I'd never listened to Grace. I ... we'll have to own up. What choice do we have? Poor Julia! I saw her in the corridor just before lunch - you could tell by the way she walked she must've had a really bad caning. I'll talk to Grace - if I say I will, she can hardly refuse, can she?"
"Not really," said Susan. "And from what you say, she won't want Julia to take the blame either." She looked at Rachel who had been trailing her shoes along the ground kicking up the leaves as she went.
"But ... oh dear - I am so scared," said Alice. "Really..." She leaned up against Susan, taking her arm. "I think I'd rather be expelled than get Molly. I don't think I could b-"
Suddenly, Rachel stopped. She faced the other two, who'd stopped in turn and were looking at her expectantly.
"I'll say it was me," she said, and she immediately held up her palms to silence the protest she could see about to emerge from Susan's mouth. "Listen - there's so many reasons why," she continued. Alice looked sorry but hopeful. Rachel held up her right thumb, adding a finger for each reason: "One, I don't mind it so much ... as you know. Two, I've already had Molly, and I know I can survive it ... just. And three, it'd only be one of us, not two." She stood there, the wind blowing her brown hair across her forehead, her skirt peeping out below the hem of her toggled-up dark blue duffle coat, her black shoes turned slightly inwards as she awaited a response. Susan's heart was brimming over. Alice felt guilty that she was so relieved by Rachel's offer.
"You can't!" they both said simultaneously, though both could see, too, that Rachel's reasons did make sense.
"No, really," said Rachel. "I ... I don't mind. Just so long as I don't get expelled ... I'd hate that." The other two stood in silence.
"We'd better get back," said Rachel. "We've got Geography with Very Waring in a few minutes."
"Yes, and I've got Bainbridge," said Alice. "And if we're late today, EEESH! They are well and truly on the warpath. Say hello to a whacking for sure!"
As they hurried back towards school, each pondered her own thoughts. Alice was struggling with the conflict between the huge relief she felt at the thought of avoiding that very severe caning and the guilt she knew she'd feel at allowing her friend to take her place. Susan was remembering the brown lines across Rachel's white gym shorts the last time she'd got Molly, and how she, Susan, had cried. Rachel too was remembering that caning and shivering inwardly at the thought of what would almost certainly be a harder dose of the same thing - and ... on her bare bottom.
---oOo---
Monday 1.55 p.m.
Dessert having been especially inedible at lunch, Jenny Simpson felt an overwhelming urge for some chocolate before Mrs Palmer's Science lesson in five minutes' time. She had some stowed in the private box she kept hidden under her bed, and having no pocket money handy to use at the Tuck shop, which would've been quicker, she raced up the stairs to her dorm to get some.
She was kneeling on the bare floorboards on the far side of her bed in Dorm C, reaching under for the box, when she heard footsteps approaching, and the sound of voices. She recognised Patterson's, her dorm Captain. She groaned silently - just her luck! Patterson was bound to demand some of her chocolate: she'd seen her do it to other girls, intimidating them with her prefect's power, making empty promises, and then grabbing a greedy share. Well, she's not getting any of mine, the vicious pig, thought Jenny, and she slid down to lie flat on the floor, half under her bed.
"Why didn't you tell me about the cigarettes?" she heard Patterson say as two sets of footsteps entered the room and seemed to stop by the dorm Captain's bed.
"Oh, I thought I'd just make doubly sure. And I thought you might enjoy an extra surprise," said another voice Jenny couldn't place. "And it was good, wasn't it?"
The Girls of Cropton Hall Page 45
