Mouths fell open; whispers and titters lisped through the rows. Mistresses turned to each other in shock and puzzlement. Verily looked at the ceiling and sighed.
Sir Stanlegh continued, the earlier fidgeting replaced now by wide eyes and rapt attention,
"Girls, I am not going to stand here and lecture you on how to conduct yourselves. You have a very fine collection of mistresses, dedicated to the moulding of your characters - as, I like to think, I too have been - but I will say this..." He paused. His gaze ranged over the rows of blue-clad girls, and he swivelled round to include the mistresses again before turning back to the hall.
"Please ... never forget that you are your own creator - your life is of your own making, however much you may sometimes think that it isn't. Be original, be inventive, be courageous. But most of all, use your mind - your greatest gift - to imagine yourself to that very place you most want to be, and then ... " He raised his arm dramatically and pointed to a high and distant horizon, " ... go there!"
He stepped back. "Thank you for listening," he said, and then he bowed.
There was a stunned silence in the hall. And then a clap was heard at the back, and another, and then applause began to spread from the Sixth-formers forwards through the hall. Julia Bennett stood up and others followed suit - Gabrielle, Helen, Shirley, Jean Atkinson and Mary Wilkinson, Rachel, Susan, Christina Ward and Penny Linton, Alice, Sally Evans, Grace, Ann Pringle, Jenny, Charlotte and her sister Emma, Elizabeth Stewart, Jane Wilkinson ... they and their form mates stood and they clapped with all their might.
On the stage, Verily too began to applaud as she came forward, and gradually her staff, looking at each other in some confusion, joined in. Edith appeared shocked but reluctantly began to clap as well.
Verily stood behind the lectern, produced a sheet of paper and proceeded to read out the list of those invited to join herself and Sir Stanlegh in her study.
---oOo---
It will be no surprise to you, dear reader, to discover that Rachel, Susan, Alice, and other original members of SWACK, formed with such sweet ceremony on that historic afternoon two Sundays before, were on Sir Stanlegh's list. Nor indeed that it included Julia and Gabrielle, Helen and Shirley. SWACK, of course, was now, more than ever, the talk of the whole school.
As Rachel and Susan made their way along the oft-trodden corridor, Rachel looked very pensive.
"What's up, Rache?"
"I was just thinking. You know the book you found in the attic room ... the one you..." She lowered her voice. " ... whacked me with?"
"Yes."
"Well, what did you say the author's name was?"
"Oh! ... I can't remember ... um ... I know it was called The Girls of Cropton Hall ... " Susan frowned in concentration and scratched her tousled blond hair. "Oh yes! That's it! It was ... Sir Stanley something."
"Was it Sir Stanlegh Meeth?" asked Rachel.
"Yes, that's right!"
Rachel looked at her meaningfully. It took a few seconds for Susan to make the connection, but when she did she stopped in her tracks and slapped her palm on her forehead. "Oh gosh! It's him, isn't it? He's the one. He's here!"
"Yes," said Rachel. There was no time to pursue the matter, however, as Julia and Gabrielle approached with Alice and Grace in tow.
"Hey, Rachel ... Susan!" called Julia. They fell into step together, these chosen ones.
"So, you lot, why do you think we're the ones he wants to meet?" asked Grace. "Why us?"
"I reckon he just likes the naughty ones," said Alice, showing remarkable insight for one so young.
"Excuse me, Jennings!" said Gabrielle, indignantly. "Watch who you're calling naughty, will you!"
"Er ... and excuse ME!" returned Alice. "From what I heard, you were double-whacked for cheating in Gibbo's last hurrah ... AND you were caned for study card laziness! I DID just happen to be outside at the time waiting for mine, remember? Um ... let me think ... oh yes ... I believe it was SIX, wasn't it?" The others laughed, glancing uneasily at Gabrielle. Alice was in full flow. "Oooh! Ouch! Sorry, Miss Markham! I'll never do it again, Miss Markham!"
"Now, now, Alice," said Julia, putting an arm round the blushing Gabrielle. "Show some respect for your Captain and a very brave girl, if you don't mind. No - if you ask me ... well, he obviously thinks SWACK is a good thing - after all he said so and you're all on the list. And Gabby's the Head Girl and she and I are both in the hockey team. He probably just wants to meet a cross-section of ... of typical girls."
"What about Jenny then?" demanded Alice. "She's not typical. She's not typical at all ... she's ... she's lovely."
"I can't believe he said that about SWACK," said Rachel. "I mean, Miss Markham didn't ban it or anything, but I thought it'd just fizzle out after what happened with the crest, and now ... well, it looks like the whole school will want to join!"
"Yes! Isn't it super!" But Susan's excitement fell flat with Rachel.
"Not really," she responded glumly. "If everyone's a member then it becomes ... well ... we might as well just call it the Society of the Girls of Cropton Hall, and ... what's the point in that?"
Susan slipped her arm through Rachel's. "Never mind, Rache," she said, "you'll always be special to me. And don't forget - you're still in the lead in the Roll of Honour. In fact, after yesterday morning, you must be miles ahead!"
"Roll of Honour?" asked Gabrielle. "What's that?"
Susan and Rachel looked at each other uncertainly. How much was it safe to tell the Head Girl?
"Um ... just a system Rache invented," said Susan.
"System for what?" asked Gabrielle. Alice piped up:
"For counting who's had the most whackings!" She hadn't noticed Rachel and Susan's wariness - nor did she spot the dirty looks they were giving her now. "You get so many points for getting the junior cane, so many for the hairbrush, so many for Molly, etcetera, and then it depends if it was on your knickers or bare - you lose one point if..."
"Yes, all right, Alice. I think they got the idea," said Rachel, blushing. Alice looked surprised and a little hurt.
Gabrielle chuckled. "Oh my! You girls certainly know how to turn pain into pleasure, don't you? Still, it's not a bad idea. I'd suggest it to Marky, but I think she'd want the winner to be the one with the fewest points, not the most."
They were approaching Upper Sixth B's form room when Miss Gibson appeared in the doorway.
"Ah, girls! Here you are. Good! You must each take a chair - we have a stack in here. Come along." She stood back and ushered them in. "Over there, Bennett, by the cupboard."
"Yes, Miss."
Julia lifted a chair off the stack and passed it to Gabrielle, and in a moment they'd formed a line passing chairs from hand to hand. Miss Gibson called into the corridor.
"In here, Simpson! And you, Barton, Patterson," Jenny appeared with Shirley and Helen. "Right, girls, take your chairs along to the Headmistress' study, and no talking please. SWACK hasn't taken over Cropton Hall yet, Thomas!"
Rachel blushed. "No, Miss."
Alice said, "Not yet, Miss, anyway." With a smile, Miss Gibson lifted her hand and made as if to give the cheeky fifth-former a smack on the bottom. Alice squealed and arched her backside away from the imagined blow. As she disappeared towards the Head's study she called over her shoulder,
"That won't be allowed when we're in charge, Miss."
Miss Gibson raised her eyebrows and shook her head.
---oOo---
The sofas had been moved back and the armchairs and upright chairs arranged in an oval so that everyone would be included. Margaret and Monica shared one sofa, Prudence, Emily and Edith facing them on the other. Gabrielle and Julia occupied the two armchairs, Helen and Shirley shared the pouffe, whilst Rachel, Susan, Alice, Grace and Jenny sat very upright and wide-eyed in an arc towards the study end of the room. Verily had brought the chair from behind her desk and sat to the left of Sir Stanlegh who stood with his back to the tall bay windows at the end of the room. Sever
al magpies had gathered on the sill outside, some of them peering in.
When everyone was settled, all eyes turned to Sir Stanlegh, blinking slightly in the bright daylight against which his figure was silhouetted.
"Thank you all for coming. I won't keep you long." He took a deep breath, paused and looked up, as if carefully choosing his words. "Your Headmistress is alone in understanding my role in relation to the school. Mine is a very unusual position. It's hard - in fact, impossible really - to explain it to you, and it would be even harder for you to understand. However, I can tell you that I'm writing a book. It's about Cropton Hall, and you all feature in it."
Surprised and delighted murmurs filled the room. Rachel whispered to Susan, "But he's already written it, hasn't he? Unless it's another one?"
Miss Bainbridge had immediately noticed the whispering and was looking daggers at them, so Susan didn't dare try to reply.
Sir Stanlegh continued. "However, the book is very nearly finished now and it's with ... great sadness that today I take my leave and cease my involvement with Cropton Hall."
He looked down. All eyes remained inquisitively levelled at him.
"Of course, my departure means nothing to you - you've only just met me. Your lives will carry on, as will mine. And you cannot know why it is that you mean so much to me. But please ... believe me when I say ... I am very, very fond of you all. And this is why my purpose in the next half an hour is to give each of you ... a gift."
The younger girls turned to each other with smiles and raised eyebrows, thinking 'hampers'! The mistresses maintained their steady gaze at this strange male with his enigmatic talk. Verily sat very still, looking down at her hands in her lap.
Sir Stanlegh stared at the door as he went on,
"And so ... any minute now ... the first gift ... any moment..." He seemed to be waiting for something. Some of his listeners turned that way; others just stared at him warily as if they were beginning to doubt his sanity. At that moment, however, there was a knock and all heads swivelled towards the door. It opened and a middle-aged man appeared. He had a pale, drawn face and kindly eyes.
"Oh!" He was clearly surprised to see such a gathering. "I'm sorry to interrupt ... I'm looking for the Headmistress?"
Jenny Simpson jumped up. "DADDY!" she cried, running to him. She threw her arms round his middle and turned her head sideways against his chest. Mr Simpson leaned forward slightly, holding her to him and stroking her hair. He bent and kissed the top of her head, murmuring, "Jenny, Jenny, my darling girl ... I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."
Margaret and Verily both came over. Verily offered the newcomer her hand.
"Welcome, Mr Simpson. Verily Markham ... I'm the Headmistress."
Jenny's father had tears in his eyes as he looked up and, still holding tight to Jenny, shook Verily's hand. "Peter Simpson. Sorry to disturb your meeting. I was told I'd find you here."
"It's quite all right," said Verily. Margaret stepped forward.
"Margaret Dawson." They shook hands. Mr Simpson looked down at Jenny, still clinging to him.
"I've come to take my daughter home. I'm afraid I should never have sent her here ... I'm sorry ... I don't mean ... what I mean is ... my reasons for sending her away weren't ... they were selfish reasons, and I'm afraid I've hurt Jenny very badly..."
He turned away and put a hand over his eyes. His shoulders began to shake. His voice, when it came, was quiet and choked with tears. "You see, I ...I lost my wife, Jenny's mother, and..."
Jenny looked up at him in distress, shaking her head. Margaret placed a hand on his shoulder.
"Mr Simpson," she said. "I think Jenny understands. We all do..."
"Daddy, I do, I do understand. It's all right. Please don't cry, Daddy, please..."
He wiped his eyes and looked at Jenny. "Do you? Jenny, do you really? I was so cruel to you! I ... I'm so sorry. But you can come home now and we'll be happy and..."
"Daddy ... " Jenny looked down, and then she turned to look over at Alice, who had been following the exchanges with avid, frightened attention. Now she sent Jenny a silent, pleading message with her own wide tear-filled eyes. Jenny looked up into her father's face again. "Daddy, would you mind terribly if ... if I stay? I'm here now and ... although they whack us a lot harder than you ever did, I ... I'm happy, and ... I'd like to stay."
Her father held her chin in his hand and looked down into her eyes. "Of course, my darling, if that's what you really want. Of course..."
Verily smiled. "Jenny, perhaps you'd like to show your father round the school? Have some time together. Talk."
"Thank you, Miss Markham. I ... I think we should." He wiped his cheeks, turned to Jenny and held out his arm, crooked at the elbow, for her to take. "Shall we, Miss Simpson?"
Jenny beamed and put her arm through his. Verily held the door open.
Father and daughter left the study, reunited in understanding.
Mistresses and girls alike turned to each other, touched, some smiling, some discreetly wiping away a tear.
"Margaret, thank you," said Verily. "That was your doing." She hugged her.
"Ahem!" Sir Stanlegh cleared his throat at the other end of the room. They'd almost forgotten he was there. Verily and Margaret walked over and resumed their seats, Verily muttering to him as she passed, "Thank you - that was lovely." He nodded almost imperceptibly.
"Now then ..." He looked at his watch. "Must hurry on - I've a deadline to meet ... next, please, Shirley Barton and Helen Patterson."
The two girls stood uncertainly. Sir Stanlegh reached down into the shadows in the corner and came up with two volumes.
"For Shirley, the Complete Works of the master, our own William Shakespeare. I know you're an admirer. All thirty-six plays and the poems are here, and plenty of villains for you to explore!" Shirley blushed. "But I suspect you're past that now, aren't you?" Shirley nodded. "We all learn painful lessons sometimes, Shirley. And I wonder which hurt more - the jealousy and rage, or the thrashing with Molly?"
Shirley turned an even brighter red and her hands went unconsciously to the back of her skirt as she thought about this. "The jealousy, sir," she said, then added, "and the guilt."
"I thought so. Here, my dear. Enjoy it."
"Thank you."
"And for you, Helen, something to guide you in your new path: it's called 'How to Win Friends and Influence People'. It's by an American, but it's well worth the study."
Sir Stanlegh chuckled inwardly at the insult to many of his readers implied in that 'but', and wondered if any of them would berate him for it. He even contemplated taking the line out, but thought, 'What the hell, they win all the contests anyway and it's the last chapter.'
"Thank you, sir," said Helen, curtseying sweetly.
"Thank you both," he replied. "You've contributed most interestingly to life at Cropton Hall. Goodbye." He held out his hand which they shook in turn, and then they made their exit.
"Grace - Grace Middleton."
Grace got up. Suddenly, and most unexpectedly, he bawled at her:
"How DARE you, girl!" Grace jumped and went pale, looking around in dismay. Then her hands clenched and she frowned, flushing with anger. Sir Stanlegh laughed and held his arms out. "Grace! Grace ... come here. I'm sorry ... I was teasing you."
Grace struggled with her sudden rage and came forward slowly, in great confusion.
"You are a brave and honourable girl, Grace, and my gift to you is ... well ... you should have seen the look on your face just now!" He turned to the others. "Didn't she look so ANGRY? As red as a well-whacked bottom after Miss Bainbridge's been at it with her strap!"
Verily let out a sudden, surprised laugh, Monica followed and then the other mistresses joined in, even Edith. The girls looked around in puzzlement and then they too were caught by the infectious laughter, the shocking vividness of the image and the look on Grace's face. Alice and Rachel were the last to join in, but they couldn't help themselves, despite the sympathy they felt for the
ir friend.
Grace stood before Sir Stanlegh looking down, a gargantuan struggle contorting her face, rage and tears fighting for supremacy. But then Sir Stanlegh leaned forward and whispered in her ear for several moments before standing back again. Slowly, Grace raised her head. She stared at him, open-mouthed. Then, very gradually, her expression changed: a light came into her eyes and the corners of her mouth slowly lifted into a smile. And then she too began to laugh, her shoulders shaking with a wonderful release.
"That is my gift to you, Grace - laughter. Have fun, Grace! You deserve it!"
He noticed Edith had stopped laughing, indeed was frowning. He added quickly, "But if it involves a misdemeanour, watch out for Miss Bainbridge, of course!"
They all laughed even harder - even Edith couldn't help chucking. Sir Stanlegh held out his hand. "Thank you, Grace."
She shook it. "Thank you, sir," she said, still giggling, and she turned and made for the door. Just before she left, she looked back again at the tall man silhouetted in the window. She winked and then she was gone.
"Alice," said Sir Stanlegh coming forward to where the fifth-former sat. He took her hands and helped her up from her seat. "I've already given you my present - Jenny will stay. And you are so gifted anyway, what could I possibly add?"
Alice could think of quite a few things, but she beamed proudly.
"Alice, I thank you for your humour, your courage and the love you give. In my book, you are a shining star. God bless you." He placed a kiss on her forehead and stepped back, releasing her hands, watching with glowing pride as she stepped away towards the door.
Once she'd opened it and was sure of a quick escape route, she grinned and said, "Thanks, Stan," and then she was gone. Edith gasped and frowned. Sir Stanlegh laughed heartily and called out,
"Goodbye, Alice - you ... you Tasmaniac, you!"
The Girls of Cropton Hall Page 58
