"All right," said Rachel. "I feel like a lie-down, anyway. I'm tired out after all today's excitement."
"See you then."
In a feverish daze, and propelled by her love-fuelled gallantry, Susan French set off down the corridor. She was already blushing a deep red and sweating before she even reached Miss Markham's study door, and only then did it occur to her to try to frame in her mind what exactly she was going to say. And not a lot was coming. She knocked anyway.
"Enter!" she heard. Without bothering to straighten her tie or tidy her hair, Susan crossed that fateful threshold once more.
"Yes, French?" Miss Markham looked up from the book on her desk. Susan took two steps forward and, quite beetroot by now, announced, "I want to confess, Miss."
The Headmistress placed a marker in the book, closed it and sat back. "Do you now? Well, come in and shut the door then."
Susan stood frozen a moment. The reality of Miss Markham eyeing her from the other side of that desk suddenly dispelled much of her romantic Arthurian pluck and she began to wonder if she hadn't made an awful mistake. Snapping out of her daze, she shut the door. She then approached that spot on the carpet, before the dreaded desk, to which she was not alone in having been hypnotically rooted rather more often than had subsequently been good for her backside.
"And what exactly do you wish to confess to, French?" asked Miss Markham in a tone that had equal measures of bemused scepticism and latent irritation.
"The crest, Miss ... it was me. I painted SWACK on the crest."
Under the Headmistress' neutral but penetrating gaze, Susan became increasingly aware that she had no idea what she was doing, and worse, that Miss Markham was aware of the fact.
"I see ... well, that is a very serious accusation to make, French. Are you quite sure you've got your facts right?" The Headmistress opened a drawer and produced a sheet of paper and a pencil.
Susan's eyes glazed in confusion. "Er ... yes, Miss ... I ... I think I'm quite sure. It was me, Miss. I did it."
"So tell me ... what did you do with the paint and the brush after you committed this act of vandalism?"
"I hid them in the woods, Miss." Susan watched as Miss Markham made a note.
"Whereabouts in the woods?"
Susan hesitated. "Um ... just ... in the woods, Miss." The Headmistress looked at her sharply and Susan tried to gulp but couldn't.
"Just ... in the woods. I see. And who was with you?"
Susan stared blankly for a moment. "Er ... no one, Miss. It was just me, Miss."
"Just you," said the Headmistress, adding to her jottings. "And how did the paint and the brush happen to end up in Bennett's desk?"
"I ... I don't know, Miss."
"Right, well ... I thank you for your courage in coming forward, French. Go and stand over there by that sofa, please."
Susan's heart went into overdrive and her tummy lurched as she walked unsteadily across the room. Oh God .... Molly! What have I done? How will I bear it?
She stood by the sofa and turned. The Headmistress went to the chest of drawers, opened the middle one, reached in and produced a hairbrush. Susan's eyes opened wide.
"Miss ... aren't you ... Miss, I thought ... aren't you going to use Molly, Miss?"
"No, French, I am not. And in a moment I will tell you why," said the Headmistress wearily. "Now lower your knickers and bend over the arm of the sofa."
Susan was utterly confused, but she knew she must've made a mistake somewhere along the line - coming here in the first place, probably. She pulled her knickers down and bent over, placing her hands on the seat of the sofa. She felt her skirt being lifted out of the way and had that feeling of déjà vu she got each time she found her bottom bared.
"The reason I'm not using Molly, French ..." ... CRACK!
"EEESH!" gasped Susan.
"...is that you have just told me a pack of LIES!" ... CRACK!
"OW!"
"And I believe I warned you before, young LADY ..." ... CRACK!
"AAAOOOH!" she screeched.
"That I do not take kindly to being lied to ..." ... CRACK!
Susan wailed and shook her legs back and forth.
"Because it insults my intelligence ..." ... CRACK!
"AAAAOOOOWWW!" Susan's bottom was stinging and burning fiercely. She wanted desperately to clutch it and rub.
"And shows a distinct ..." ... CRACK! ... "lack of RESPECT ..." ... CRACK! ... "doesn't it?" ... CRACK!
These last three thwacks of the hard wooden hairbrush in quick succession sent Susan into a state of wailing abandon. Tears of sheer pain spilled from her eyes and dropped onto the cushion below.
"YEEEES, MISS!" she cried. "Pleeease, Miss, I'm sorry!"
Miss Markham walked away and replaced the hairbrush. Susan sobbed over the sofa arm, her hands now answering the desperate calls from her tortured bottom for immediate rubbing relief.
Miss Markham returned, reached down and hauled Susan's knickers back up, pushing the girl's hands out of the way as she did so. "Now get up and come back to my desk and we'll start this over again."
She took an arm and pulled Susan up. The wincing sixth-former dried her eyes on her sleeve and was led, slightly bow-legged, back to the desk. She felt foolish and mortified and scared of the questions to come.
Verily resumed her seat and examined the tousle-haired girl. "Now, Susan," she said, more gently. "Kindly tell me what you do know."
Susan sniffed and rubbed the back of her skirt. "I ... I just know it wasn't Bennett, Miss."
"And how do you know that?"
"Um ... I don't know, Miss. I just know, Miss ..."
Verily sighed. "And what is SWACK, Susan?"
Susan winced again and looked down. She didn't think she could dare to lie again - her bottom stung and throbbed too much.
"I ... I can't say, Miss ... I'm sorry, Miss ... I just can't ..."
"I see," said Verily. "So, you came to see me without anything much to say at all, didn't you?"
Susan kept her eyes on the accursed carpet and nodded miserably. The Headmistress rose and walked towards the door. She opened it and stood back.
"Off you go, French. And please do NOT try to pull the wool over my eyes again. They're sharper than you think."
"Yes, Miss ... I mean, no, Miss," said Susan.
She scuttled gratefully out of the study.
Verily sighed and shut the door after her. She returned to the book that lay on her desk. She'd found it strangely absorbing so far, though it was rather unsettling to read about her own recent, and distant, past, and in such lurid detail too. She was just about to embark on Chapter Two when she heard the faint mumble of voices outside.
She sighed, put the book down again, got up and strode over to open the door.
"Yes, Jennings ... Middleton ... what is it?"
"We've ... we've come to tell you something, Miss."
33. Songs of Freedom
Monday, 27th September 1953 5.05 p.m.
The Headmistress leaned forward, placed her hands on the desk before her and fixed the two fifth-formers with the gravest of expressions. She spoke quietly, in a tone that held as much regret as anger.
"Jennings ... Middleton, you have committed a deliberate act of vandalism and shown a frankly despicable lack of respect for both the school and its history. Furthermore, you have defied me ... yes, defied me, by refusing to explain the significance of this ... this ridiculous SWACK nonsense." She looked slowly from one to the other. "I'm afraid you leave me no choice. This is a clear case of gross misconduct and the Governing body will, I am sure, endorse my decision. As a result of your behaviour I regret to inform you that you will be expelled from Cropton Hall forthwith."
Alice gasped; her face twisted with anguish. Grace, bright red, looked down.
"Miss, pleeeease," begged Alice, tears spilling.
Ignoring her, Miss Markham continued: "I shall be telephoning your parents this evening to arrange for you to be collected at the soones
t opportunity." She rounded the desk.
"Miiiss," wailed Alice.
"I have nothing further to say, and neither do you." The Headmistress strode purposefully to the door and held it open. "You will be informed this evening as to the arrangements for your departure."
As the two girls made their disconsolate way out, a sobbing Alice gave her nemesis a last, pleading look, but Miss Markham's face remained impassive and she ushered them away with a dismissive movement of her head.
A minute later, Verily once again barely seated, yet another visitor was knocking. The door opened.
"Headmistress?"
"Ah! Edith, come in!" said Verily with a look of surprise. "I was expecting Margaret. She was going to bring Barton but she seems to have been delayed. Ah! But I see you've brought tea and biscuits instead! Thank you, Edith - most welcome."
The Deputy Head carried the small tray over to the sofa end of the study and placed it on the low table. Verily joined her.
"Yes," said Edith, sitting and beginning to pour. "I thought you might need a pick-me-up." She handed Verily a cup and placed the plate of biscuits - ginger nuts and custard creams - before her. "Meanwhile, I've just spoken with Margaret in the corridor. Apparently, she's been looking for Barton for the past half hour and can't find her anywhere. It's rather worrying. Anyway, Eileen's searching the dormitories as we speak, and Monica's with Margaret scouring the grounds."
"Hm ... I hope she hasn't done anything stupid - well, more stupid than she's already managed, that is."
"Quite," said Edith. "Margaret filled me in on what Patterson said and, Verily, I must tell you ... I am absolutely mortified about Bennett - I am so sorry. I acted in haste, and, to be honest, I was still very angry about what was done to the crest. I feel awful and I shall be apologising to Bennett, and to her parents - on Friday, if they come, and if not, I'll write." She took a sip of her tea. "Do you know, Verily, in thirty years at Cropton Hall that is the first time I have ever caned a girl in error? I feel ... well, mortified, as I said. And utterly furious as well. Barton and Patterson did an unforgivable thing, in my view."
"Well, it was certainly very spiteful and cunning, though I believe it was mainly Barton's doing. In the circumstances, Edith, I don't think you should be too hard on yourself. It wouldn't have been the first time Bennett was caught smoking, or with cigarettes in her possession anyway, and the evidence was by all too plain to see, wasn't it? Yes, it is very, very unfortunate, and perhaps you were just a little hasty given the accompanying aspects but ... well, what's done is done."
"Yes," said Edith regretfully. "Thank you, Verily. You're being very understanding, but I can tell you ... this will haunt me to my grave."
Verily gazed at the older woman with great affection. "I know it will, Edith, and I'm so sorry that this has happened. Meanwhile ... " She put her cup down. "... I've had a very interesting afternoon and I think we've now got to the bottom of almost everything."
"Oh, what a relief!" said the Deputy Head. "I knew you would, Verily! It's extremely clever of you, if I may say so."
"Hardly!" laughed Verily. "It all seems to have fallen into my lap. Patterson confessed immediately to what she and Barton got up to and just now I've had Jennings and Middleton owning up to the crest business. And unlike French, who was in here earlier trying to say it was her, foolish girl, I'm afraid they were telling the truth. I've informed them they are to be expelled."
"Gosh, Verily! Can we afford it? Won't Sir Wilfred object? I mean, I quite agree they deserve it but..."
"Well, actually Edith, I'm rather hoping the threat of expulsion will flush out the last remaining mystery which, annoyingly but somewhat to their credit, neither girl would reveal."
"SWACK?"
"SWACK. Any ideas?" asked Verily.
"Oh, I'm sure it's just some silly secret society. You know what girls are like ... I imagine the K stands for knickers ... perhaps Send Warm and Clean Knickers? After all, winter's coming. Oh, I don't know, Verily, I was never much of a one for puzzles."
"Hm..."
"So ... they won't be expelled, Jennings and Middleton?"
"No - they're not bad girls, in fact they're very sweet ... well, Jennings is. Middleton's rather cross about things but she's basically good. I'm guessing they only came to own up because they heard about Bennett, and that shows courage, I think, don't you?"
"Yes. Yes, it does. This whole business with Barton trying to lay the blame at Bennett's door has rather played into our hands, hasn't it? Forced the real culprits to come forward."
"Yes, but only because they're loyal to their fellow pupil. Oh, Edith - I remember it so well. Is it just Cropton Hall? Or are all girls so ... so decent? So willing to step forward and protect the innocent?"
"I don't know, Verily, I don't know. But we can be proud of that spirit. And you, my dear, were no exception. That it lives on, after all these years ... well, perhaps it's just something in this North Yorkshire air?"
---oOo---
Monday 5.10 p.m.
"OW! Careful!" Susan turned her head in protest.
"Well, it serves you right!" responded Rachel, continuing to smear cold cream none too gently onto her friend's right buttock.
Susie was lying on her front on Rachel's bed, her bottom bared. The harsh visitations of Miss Markham's hairbrush had left a mass of overlapping ovals, dark red and purplish, to which Rachel's eyes were glued in fascination.
"Rache, pleeease, it's not fair!" cried Susan, wriggling uncomfortably. "I'm always gentle with you."
Rachel stopped and sighed. "All right ... I'm sorry, Susie." She scooped another dollop and laid it carefully on Susan's left cheek, then slowly and softly spread it in circles with the tips of her fingers until the worst of the marks were covered. "But really! What on earth were you thinking of? You TWIT! You're so STUPID sometimes!"
"I know!" said Susan, laughing ruefully. "I'm sorry, but ... I just thought..."
"No, Miss FRENCH..." Rachel accompanied the surname with a firm smack to Susan's unmarked left thigh. Susan squealed in surprise. "...Don't you dare even USE the word 'thought'! You didn't think at all. You know what Miss Markham's like. How could you be such an IDIOT?!"
Susan rubbed the stinging thigh. "I'm SORRY, all RIGHT? Now how about a bit of sympathy for a whacked knightess, instead of all this mistressy ticking off?"
Rachel grunted and continued to soothe the hot flesh. "How did she know?" she asked, after a pause.
"What? Oh, you mean Marky? I don't know ... she just knew, and she didn't even let on that she knew; she just told me to go to the sofa. God, it was so embarrassing, Rache. I was so sure I was about to get Molly that when I saw her pick out the hairbrush from the drawer I actually said, 'Aren't you going to use Molly?'"
"You DIDN'T!" Rachel laughed. "What did she say?"
"Well, she did that thing where she said a few words between each whack. It hurt so much I wasn't really listening. OWEEE! Rache - she really laid into me. Eight, you know!"
"I can see," said Rachel. "Poor thing. But why didn't you listen to me? I told you I'd say it was me. You didn't have to go and do that. Anyway..."
She was interrupted by the appearance of Alice at the door, followed by Grace, both looking ashen-faced. Rachel knew immediately that something was wrong.
"Hello, you two," said Alice miserably.
"What's happened?" asked Rachel, her heart in her mouth. Alice looked at Grace who turned away, hiding her tears. "What is it?"
Susan had turned and was leaning on an elbow, looking equally concerned. "What's going on?" she asked.
"We're ... we're being expelled," said Alice, coming over and sitting on her bed. Grace joined her.
"You're WHAT?" exclaimed Rachel and Susan simultaneously. The two sixth-formers stared at Alice and Grace in shock. It was upon Rachel that the truth dawned quickest.
"Oh NO! Not you as well?" she groaned. "What did you tell her?"
"Everything," said Alice. "Well, no actually, not eve
rything. We refused to tell her about SWACK."
Rachel looked at Susan, then back at the other two. "But you owned up to painting the crest?"
Alice and Grace nodded.
"But WHY?" shouted Rachel. She shook her head in exasperation. "Why won't anyone listen to me today? I told you I'd take the blame!"
"I know, Rachel," said Alice quietly, looking down at her hands on her lap. "But ... I'm sorry, I just couldn't let you do that, I just couldn't." She looked up. "It wouldn't have been right, not ... something so serious. And anyway, look what's happened: you'd have been the one to get expelled."
A sombre silence fell upon them all. Eventually, Susan asked,
"But you didn't tell her about SWACK?"
"No," said Grace. "We'd agreed we wouldn't. We took a vow, remember."
"Gosh, you're brave," said Rachel, shaking her head and moving to put a hand on Alice's knee. "Thank you. Thank you both. But ... you know what? There's no point in SWACK any more, not without you two."
"Don't say that!" said Grace angrily. "You've got to keep it going, Rache! You've got to! Otherwise, we ... otherwise, us not telling will have been wasted! We did it to protect SWACK, Rachel, and you. You're the brave one round here. We all know that. You taught us to sing, Rache, to sing in our hearts."
"Yes," said Alice, "Songs of freedom!"
Rachel looked down and felt a sudden lurch of shame.
Oh God! What had she done? She'd invented a stupid ... childish secret society and dressed it up and put a lot of silly ideas into these girls' heads and for what? So she could show off and feel important? Count her whacks and win the prize? She'd only meant it to be a game! But now the game had turned nasty; now it was deadly serious; now friends, dear friends, would be lost. She turned to Susan.
"Oh Susie!" she pleaded. "Tell me I'm not an utterly stupid fool!"
Susan could sense what Rachel was thinking and put a consoling hand on her arm. "It's all right, Rache. You weren't to know. We all went along with it." She looked Rachel honestly in the eyes. "But ... it's too late now."
Grace and Alice's faces slowly crumpled. They turned to each other and started to cry. Rachel hid her face in her hands and wept.
The Girls of Cropton Hall Page 48
