Prudence suddenly laughed and they all looked at her. She blushed and shook her head.
Sir Stanlegh came back and stood before Gabrielle.
"What can I say to our Head Girl? Another brave and righteous soul." Again, he held out his hands, which she took, hesitantly, rising with his help. She smiled awkwardly. He said,
"The Headmistress received a letter this morning, Gabrielle. Verily, would you?"
Verily produced an envelope and took out the sheet it contained.
"From Avon," she said, "dated September 28th." She read aloud: 'Dear Miss Markham, I cannot express how proud I am that you have chosen Gabrielle as your new Head Girl. It is an honour for her, for me and for the memory of her dear mother, whom we lost some years ago. Thank you. I have always worried that Gabrielle's spirit was in some ways crushed by that tragedy - as whose would not be at that age? She lost her sparkle, became quiet, withdrawn, even shy, which was so unlike her. To hear then that she has stepped into such a responsible role - and indeed that she deliberately invited a caning just so she could carry out her duties with greater empathy - these things make me more proud than I can possibly express...'"
Gabrielle blushed before their admiring gazes.
"Miss, you told him about..."
Verily nodded. "Yes, I did, Gabrielle. Because I knew he'd be proud of such selflessness."
"Well done, Gabrielle," added Sir Stanlegh. "And we promise your privacy will be respected in future."
Gabrielle nodded.
"Goodbye, Gabrielle, and thank you," he said.
"Goodbye ... sir." She shook the proffered hand and made her way to the door. She stood there for a moment, looked at him, bowed and was gone.
"Now ... I wish to consult Julia Bennett privately," announced Sir Stanlegh. "Perhaps we could go over there?" He pointed to the far corner of the room near the mirror on the wall.
Julia got up and followed him over as he called to the others, "Please, talk among your selves for a minute."
As a murmuring struck up, he stood blocking Julia from their view. He looked down and held out an open palm on which lay a small paper package about the size of a golf ball. He spoke quietly.
"This, Julia, is against the law, so you must be very discreet indeed. Inside this paper is a kind of herb. It's called cannabis. Have you heard of it?"
Julia shook her head. "No."
"It's illegal but it shouldn't be - it'll make you giggle a lot and have wonderful ideas. Music will sound angelic and nature will appear more beautiful than ever. Empty out a cigarette very carefully, mix a little of this in with some of the tobacco, put it back in and smoke it. Hold the smoke down as long as you can. Got that?"
"Yes," she whispered.
"But however tempting it is, don't smoke it more than once a fortnight. It's not good when you're studying because you'll forget things, so use it sparingly - you'll find out for yourself. Once a fortnight - promise?"
"I promise," said Julia.
He slipped the package surreptitiously into the pocket of her blazer. "And for God's sake, don't keep it in your desk!"
Julia grinned. "No ... I won't!"
"Actually, it's extremely unlikely that anyone here would know what it is, but if they did it would mean instant expulsion, so, again, please be very careful."
"I will," said Julia. "And thank you. I think this will really keep me going - stop me dying totally of boredom."
"I know. But only once a fortnight, yes? You have A levels to get A grades in."
"Yes, I know, and I will."
"Good." He gazed down at her excited face, a beautiful face. "Thank you, Julia. You've been ... heroic ... another star in the firmament of Cropton Hall."
"Thank you," she said, blushing. "Er ... can I ask you something?"
"You may."
"Who are you?"
He smiled. "I am the wind in the trees, Julia. I'm from another world but the same world, another time but the same time. Smoke a bit of this and you'll understand."
She looked at him doubtfully and sighed. He held his hand out. She took it in hers for a moment, looking down.
"Think of me when you hear the call of a magpie," he said. He opened the door. "Goodbye, Julia - enjoy your last year here."
She grinned. "I think I will now," she said.
He closed the door after her with a sigh and looked at his watch.
"Sorry," he called, walking back to join the group.
Rachel and Susan sat side by side looking at him curiously. They were nervous yet flattered to be the last of the girls to remain.
He took a seat nearby, placed his hands on his knees and eyed them sternly. "Miss Markham," he said, "would you not say that these two are the very naughtiest, most troublesome girls you've ever come across in your long and illustrious career?"
"I would indeed, Sir Stanlegh. Quite the naughtiest and most troublesome."
He was pleased she'd picked up her cue so readily. Rachel and Susan squirmed uncomfortably in their seats. Was this another one of his jokes, like he'd played on Grace?
"But would you not also say, Headmistress, that they are excellent girls - girls of decency and loyalty, of courage and imagination, generous and good-hearted?"
"Yes, Sir Stanlegh, they are all of those and they are something more too: they are loving. That is what I most admire in them, when they're not irritating the hell out of me."
Sir Stanlegh chuckled. The two girls were blushing now and looking down.
"Susan," he said, standing up. "Come here, please."
Susan rose and glanced at Rachel, almost as if to ask, 'Should I?' Rachel nodded her encouragement. Sir Stanlegh stood before her and placed his hands on either side of her head. He closed his eyes and took several, very long, deep breaths. Susan stood uncomfortably, her head held in his grip, wondering what on earth was going on.
Eventually he removed his hands and stood back.
"Susan!" he said. She looked at him warily.
"Yes, sir?"
"How do you spell 'Buddhism'?"
She blushed and a look of panic swept across her face.
"Close your eyes and see it," he said abruptly.
She took a deep breath and closed her eyes.
"Don't think about it - just tell me what you see!"
Susan marched through the letters with growing confidence: "B ... U ... D - D - HISM."
"'Islam?'"
"I - S - L - A - M."
"Good. Now 'angel'?"
"A - N - G - E - L."
"Excellent. Now spell 'unnecessary'."
"Phew!" said Susan, wiping her brow, but glowing with excited pride. She closed her eyes again. "U -N -N - E - C - E -S - S - A- R - Y."
"Excellent, Susan, very well done."
As she opened her eyes, which were bright with pleasure, he started to clap and the others joined in eagerly.
"Rache, I can spell! I can SPELL!" cried Susan, happily. "I can't believe it! I could see the letters, Rache." She turned to Sir Stanlegh. "Oh, thank you, sir, thank you so much." She threw herself at him, flinging her arms up round his neck. He smiled indulgently and patted her gently on the back of her shoulder before easing her off.
"Well done, Susan," called Verily. "Marvellous. You just need to close your eyes and look. I imagine it doesn't work, Sir Stanlegh, with words she's never seen?"
"Um ... no. You're right about that, Headmistress, it doesn't."
"So, young lady, lots of learning still to do!" said Verily.
"Yes, Miss," said Susan, a little disappointed. She stood awkwardly, wondering if it was time for her to leave, but Sir Stanlegh had turned to her friend.
"So ... Rachel Thomas." Rachel stood up hesitantly.
"Yes, sir?"
"What a remarkable young lady you are! Like Alice, you are so gifted I am hard put to know what to give you, apart from an assurance of Susan's love."
The two girls looked down in embarrassment.
"Don't be ashamed, girls," he said. "To love
each other is not only natural, it's a great blessing. Enjoy each other for as long as your love makes you happy."
They looked at each other shyly, then glanced warily at the mistresses. They were all smiling at them, except for Edith whose eyebrows were raised as she played with a thread in the lap of her skirt.
"Rachel, I can at least give you these." He held out five, long rectangular packets, with 'Arnica' written on the cardboard packaging. "Ponds soothes, this heals."
"Thank you, sir."
"And I think you've earned a copy of this, too," he said, holding out a brown, leather-bound volume. "Read about yourself. This isn't the one Susan whacked you with, but its contents are the same. And it's got extra pages at the end so you can write your own story now."
Rachel and Susan were both blushing furiously, and Prudence was giving them a suspicious look.
"Thank you, sir," said Rachel quietly.
"Thank you, Rachel. I don't know what I would have done without you." He held his arms out. "Come here, you two."
They stepped forward uncertainly and stood close to him on either side. He placed an arm around each of their shoulders and squeezed them for a moment.
"Off you go."
They made their way eagerly towards the door.
"And, girls ... " They turned. He smiled. "If you can't be good..."
"Don't get caught!" said Rachel, smiling in return, and then they were gone.
"Edith," said Sir Stanlegh immediately, turning to the Deputy Headmistress. "I know some of my antics have shocked you, and I imagine I've incurred a not inconsiderable degree of your disapproval. However, I hope that this will go some way to softening the anguish." He reached down into the corner again. "You belong to this school more than any of us. You've devoted your life to it." He handed her a large brown envelope and a set of keys. She accepted them reluctantly, her face revealing a battle between curiosity and distaste.
"It's the deeds and keys to the house across from the school entrance. The owner died recently and it came on the market. Sir Wilfred suggested this would be a suitable and much-deserved gift for you, somewhere you could retire to, should you wish, when the time comes."
"Oh! Oh! Gosh!" exclaimed Edith, very embarrassed. "No, I couldn't possibly ... really, this is ... much too..."
"Edith!" commanded Verily. "I speak as your Headmistress - a graceful acceptance is all that's required!"
"Oh my!" said Edith, obviously delighted. "Do you know, I've often wondered who lived there, and ... and thought what a pretty house that is. Sir Stanlegh ... I don't know what to say." She turned to the Headmistress, overwhelmed. Verily got up and hugged her.
"Edith, it is richly deserved, my dear. I hope you will be very happy there for many years to come."
Verily stepped back and Sir Stanlegh held out his hand to the Deputy Head.
"Ah!" said Edith. "My turn to be dismissed!"
They all laughed. She shook his hand.
"Well ..." she said, "I thought I'd seen it all, but today has been ... quite a revelation. Thank you, Sir Stanlegh. I can't say I like your morals, young man, but I can see you do have the good of the school at heart, and I thank you for that. Goodbye."
"Goodbye, Edith."
They watched as she made her stately way to the door. She stood there a moment clutching her gift to her ample bosom, nodded to them all, and left.
"Ah!" said Sir Stanlegh, exhaling and flopping into the armchair vacated by Gabrielle earlier. He looked around at the remaining mistresses, visibly relaxing. "Now I feel I'm among special friends. And the hallmark of true friendship, I've long felt, is the willingness never to judge ... anything!"
"Sir Stanlegh, that was a very generous gift," said Verily. "Thank you so much."
"Yes, indeed," said Margaret. "Dear Edith. I know she's been worrying about where she'd go when she retires. She has no family, you know. We are her family, really ... the school."
"Now then," said Sir Stanlegh, jumping up again. "Gifts for the naughtiest ones! For there is no doubt in my mind... " He smiled down on Monica and Margaret, and Emily and Prudence, "that you four are the very wickedest of all the girls of Cropton Hall."
The younger mistresses looked dismayed, a little shocked. Monica's eyes twinkled while Margaret looked bemused.
He went round behind the sofa where Monica and Margaret sat and lifted out a large suitcase. It was brown and rather battered. He brought it over to the coffee table, its contents rattling as he did so, and laid it in front of the two older mistresses.
"Gather round, please. These are for you all to share." He nodded to Prudence and Emily to come and look. They got up.
"Monica, if you'd do the honours, please?"
Monica sat forward on the edge of the sofa and undid the two clasps. She placed a hand at each end of the lid and looked round at the others with a smile of anticipation.
"What can it be?" she asked. Then she lifted the lid.
"Heavens!" said Margaret, peering in. She looked up at Sir Stanlegh, wide-eyed.
"What is it?" asked Emily, whose view was blocked by the lid. Monica pushed it over and down.
The suitcase was filled with straps and canes, hairbrushes and other wooden spanking implements. Emily gasped. Prudence was rapidly turning beetroot.
An embarrassed silence masked the true feelings they weren't sure they could share. They looked from Sir Stanlegh to Verily and back.
"I think this calls for a reckoning!" announced Monica, standing up and taking charge. "Dawson, Stokes, go to the desk, please."
Emily and Margaret stood frozen.
"NOW, girls! We haven't got all day. The gentleman deserves to see how Cropton girls take their punishment, and that, as I think you know by now, is promptly and obediently."
Margaret blushed and started to move towards the desk. Emily looked uncertainly to Verily for confirmation. The Headmistress nodded and Emily scuttled after Margaret.
"Miss Waring, if you'd care to make first choice?" said Monica, turning the suitcase so that Prudence could select an implement. "You will be dealing with Miss Stokes to start with."
Prudence's hand hovered over the pain-dealing contents for a few moments, moving now towards a thin, whippy cane, now towards a heavy-looking strap. In the end she chose a medium-length cane.
"A suitable choice, Miss Waring," said Monica, leaning over and choosing a stout strap. She slapped it against her palm and strode over to the desk. Prudence followed, clutching her cane by its crook handle.
"Right ... Stokes, stand at that end! Dawson, I'll have you here." She indicated the near end of the desk. "We'll have those bottoms bare, girls, and be sharp about it!"
The two mistresses, both in calf-length skirts, lifted them and lowered their knickers. Sir Stanlegh and Verily moved quietly round to stand in front of the fireplace.
Margaret and Emily stood facing each other at either end of the desk, knickers round their knees, holding their skirts up at their waists. Both looked flushed, a little frightened, excited.
"You will each receive a dozen strokes," announced Monica, "and you will stay in position throughout. Is that understood?"
"Yes, Miss," said Margaret promptly.
"Yes, Miss." Emily eyed the cane which Prudence was now swishing experimentally.
"Very well ... bend over."
The two women bent forward over the green leather surface of the desk. Their hands joined in the middle, and their fingers intertwined. They looked at each other: Margaret smiled ruefully, Emily sighed and rolled her eyes.
"Miss Waring, perhaps you would care to deliver the first stroke? I shall follow your lead. Girls, you will count out the number of each stroke after it has been administered - is that clear?"
"Yes, Miss," they said in unison.
Prudence took up position to Emily's left and swished the cane through the air once more before bringing its tip carefully to rest against the middle of Emily's right buttock. She patted it gently against the pale flesh several times. Emi
ly's shoulders tensed and her mouth widened in wincing anticipation. She gripped Margaret's hands tight and Margaret responded in kind, whispering, 'Good luck!'
Prudence pursed her lips in concentration. This was a chance to impress the Headmistress for when whacking rights might be extended to all mistresses.
Back her arm drew ... the swift cane flew ... the furrow followed fierce ... striping young Emily's fulsome cheeks.
"Ow!"
Emily turned her pain-drawn face to the surface of the desk. Margaret looked over her head at Prudence who was watching in awe as the red stripe darkened and emerged into parallel lines. Margaret turned to her left to look behind for Monica only to see her lover with right arm already descending and
CRACK!
The strap slapped across Margaret's bottom, flattening the centre of her fleshy buttocks, leaving a livid red band.
"Eeeesh!"
Margaret's grip on Emily's hands tightened as she squeezed her eyes shut in endurance. Then friskily she shook her head and said,
"One, Miss."
Emily's head jerked up. "Oh! Yes ... one, Miss. Sorry, Miss."
"Not good enough, Stokes," said Monica, striding round to the other side of the desk. "Excuse me, Miss Waring." Prudence bowed slightly and stepped back to make way for her senior. "Stokes, my instruction was perfectly clear, was it not?"
"Yes, Miss," said Emily, looking round, panic on her face.
"Yet you chose to ignore it."
In a tiny voice, reluctantly, she had to agree. "Yes, Miss."
A loud CRACK was Monica's response as she laid the strap squarely over Emily's first stripe.
"YEEEOOUCH!" Emily's head rose sharply, her hair flying back.
"I trust that will help you to pay attention, Stokes," said Monica, returning whence she'd come.
"Yeees, Miss," cried Emily.
"Miss Waring?" said Monica with exaggerated politeness. "If you would be so kind as to resume the correction?"
"Indeed, Miss Gibson," said Prudence, her faint smile and glittering eyes revealing her sadistic pleasure as she lined up the next stroke.
Emily was breathing fast and bracing herself. Margaret watched in sympathy, her eyes looking up as Prudence raised the cane, then flinching shut as it struck.
"AAAOOOHHH!" yelled Emily. She drummed her feet on the floor then wriggled her bottom furiously.
The Girls of Cropton Hall Page 59
