Treachery in Torquay

by Lawler, W. P. ;

  Noticing the joy leave her daughter’s questioning eyes, she elaborated, “That is, unless we decide to take our holiday on the continent this year. How does a trip to Paris or perhaps, Rome sound to you? Might you enjoy that, Missy?”

  “Mother,” the startled girl blushed out, “why that would be simply marvelous! I can hardly wait!”

  In short order, mother and daughter were both sitting at the table enjoying delicious bowls of homemade chicken soup. Some small talk ensued until they had cleaned their plates and finished washing the dishes.

  It was only after Aggie had completed her piano practice that her mother sat her down for a good talk. Clara had received a letter earlier that day that needed some explaining. She thought that this would be a good time to bring it to her daughter’s attention.

  “Aggie,” her mother began, “I have a letter here from Miss Guyer. In it she remarked that you are not doing the best that you can do. Furthermore, she states, you are still not making friends with the other girls. And another thing, while your grades are acceptable, they could be better.”

  Aggie’s face suddenly reddened. She couldn’t believe that Miss Guyer was so cruel! Oh, how she despised that woman...

  “Now, I know we’ve had some problems with that school, Aggie,” her mother continued, “but you promised that you would try harder to fit in. Remember?”

  “Yes, Mum,” Aggie whined, “but I...”

  Aggie didn’t get to finish her answer. When she saw the look in her mother’s eye, she began to sob mildly.

  “Aggie, dear,” her mother reacted, “crying will not get you out of this predicament. You broke your promise to Miss Guyer, and whatever you may think about her or the school, we are going to finish the semester.”

  At that point, Aggie had to respond, “Yes, mother, I know what I promised. But you have to know that I tried, really tried to get along with those girls. No matter what I said to them, they were most off-putting to me.”

  “Worst of all,” Aggie continued while wiping the tears from her eyes, “they told stories about me, and if another girl even attempted to befriend me, they would treat her most poorly. So poorly, in fact, that they would force her to turn against me!”

  “My dear,” Clara instructed, “assuming that is the truth, and I know that you would have no reason to lie, surely, the teachers would support you if you were to bring those events to their attention. Wouldn’t they reprimand those nasty girls?”

  “Mother,” Aggie offered weakly, “even if they did chastise them, that wouldn’t make them accept me. It would be worse than before! Also, there are those ridiculous school rules that must be followed or else!”

  “Now, daughter,” Clara tried to reason, “we’ve been through this all before. If the other young girls can abide by the rules, then so can you. I’ll hear no more about it.”

  Clara’s stern look told her daughter that the discussion was over. Aggie couldn’t imagine what could be worse than that school. It seemed like prison to have to follow rules merely for the sake of obeying authority figures. But that was not for her to decide. She only wondered how much worse it was going to get.

  “What is more, Aggie, you will apologize to Miss Guyer,” her mother paused, then continued, stating, “after which you will get your books and respectfully submit this letter from me.”

  At that, her mother handed the missive to Aggie. Aggie placed in on her arithmetic book and replied sadly, “Yes, Mother, I will do as you say.”

  As the mournful young girl began to walk away, her mother inquired, “Aggie, don’t you want to see what’s in the letter?”

  “Not really, Mum,” she whispered, “I’ll just give it to Guyer, er I mean Miss Guyer.”

  “Well, I want you to know just what kind of trouble you’re in young lady,” Clara continued. “Please read it aloud so that there can be no mistake in what it means to all parties concerned.”

  That was the last thing in the world that Aggie wanted to do, but she complied. Sliding open the top of the unsealed letter, she returned to the table and slowly began to read the communique.

  My Dear Miss Guyer,

  Please believe me when I say to you, most sincerely, that I had hoped that it would never come to this. After the many conferences that we have had both privately, and in the presence of your very competent staff, I wanted to believe in your school’s reputation for molding young girls into model young women.

  Your school is famous throughout the entire United Kingdom, and surely, there must be good reasons for it. Well, I, for one, do not see these good reasons.

  In my dealings with my daughter on these matters, I have demanded that she adhere to every school rule, even though I find them, for the most part, totally lacking in merit and much too punitive.

  While Aggie has found them to be somewhat arbitrary and silly, she has agreed to follow them religiously.

  Yet, I find that although her grades are acceptable, her demeanor is noticeably not. She is a wonderful girl, and I am extremely proud of her. The fact that your school can choose to ignore her worth by allowing her to be a constant target of a group of undisciplined, unruly, uncaring girls, is beyond the pale.

  Please accept this letter as my formal request for our contract to be terminated. Aggie will be leaving your institution upon submission of this letter.

  Good Day,

  Mrs. Frederick Miller

  Barton Road, Torquay, UK

  After she had finished reading, Aggie squinted her eyes, turned her head and looked at her smiling mother. Then it hit her!

  “Mother, dear,” she squealed in absolute delight, “could this, er, would this, er...Does this mean that I won’t have to spend another day in that miserable gaol? Could it be that I’m free of those superficial, egotistical, snooty rotters?”

  Clara moved slowly toward her daughter with tears in her eyes, issuing, “My fine young lady, that school will trouble you no longer. And, I was wondering how you might feel about finishing your education in Paris. I’ve learned of three fine boarding schools if you are interested. There is one called Mademoiselle Cabernet’s, another one by the name of Les Marroniers and of course, Miss Dryden’s.”

  This was almost too much for Aggie to take at one time. Why only a short while ago, she had been so terribly frightened by a letter her mother had received from that awful Miss Guyer. Her mother’s reaction to that letter had seemed even more disappointing. When, next, she learned that she would have to apologize to Miss Guyer herself, she was on the verge of being totally disconsolate!

  Oh, what an incredible turn of events had just transpired!

  “Mother, dear mother,” she gratefully spoke, “you cannot conceive of the relief and joy that I am now feeling! Am I interested in attending school in Paris, France? Why, who wouldn’t be delighted by such a wonderful opportunity?”

  Totally out of character by now, Aggie skipped over to her mother’s side and dragged her from her chair. The two of them began dancing an imagined rendition of a Strauss waltz.

  Kissing her mother, she sobbed, “Oh, Mum, you’ve always been able to make things right! Thank you so much!”

  Aggie Moves On

  Friday, December 15th

  The next day could not come quickly enough for a certain Miss Aggie Miller, Barton Road, Torquay. She smiled her way through a bowl of breakfast porridge, sipped some tea, kissed her mother good-bye and took perhaps her happiest walk down the road to Miss Guyer’s School for Girls, arriving in plenty of time for morning call.

  Unlike most days, Aggie found that she was actually anxious to enter the gray-walled schoolhouse. Instead of heading to her homeroom, however, she quickly ascended the main stairway leading to the second floor principal’s office. Standing outside the large wooden door with its smoked glass insert, Aggie brushed back her curly locks, straightened out
her school uniform, and knocked three times.

  Mrs. Trelawney’s voice called out, “Come in, please.”

  “Good morning, Mrs. Trelawney,” Aggie greeted the Guyer School’s long-time secretary, continuing, “I’d like to speak to Miss Guyer, please.”

  A scowl came to the secretary’s face as she responded, “Well, I’m sure you would like to do just that, Miss Miller, but I see that you haven’t scheduled an appointment. I suggest that you come back later, and we’ll see if Miss Guyer can make some time for you.”

  Ordinarily, this response would have been enough to send the young student hastily back to her classroom, feeling embarrassed and worthless. Today, however, she would not be having any of it. Undaunted, she stood her ground, waiting for the secretary to raise her eyes from the letter she appeared to be writing.

  “I’m sorry, but I have to see her now, right this minute,” the young girl offered with a great sense of urgency.

  “Well, now, Missy,” the secretary responded, somewhat annoyed by the young girl’s tone. “What is so important that you can’t wait like everyone else? Who do you think you are?”

  “I’m sorry, Ma’am, but it’s really none of your business. I’m prepared to wait all morning if I must,” Aggie sternly remarked, folding her arms across her chest.

  “Is that so?” Mrs. Trelawney snootily replied. “Well, sit here, and I’ll see if Miss Guyer, who is extremely busy, has any time for such a rude young woman.”

  Aggie quietly took a seat, feeling a bit nervous, but at the same time most anxious to see the headmistress who had made her school life one bad dream after another. While she sat there, the young girl couldn’t help thinking that Mrs. Trelawney was cut of the same cloth as her employer.

  As she waited patiently in the main office, Aggie could hardly contain her emotions, for the search for Guyer seemed to be taking quite a long time! Ah, but it would most assuredly be worth the wait. How she had dreamt of this moment. Aggie decided to use this time to rehearse her upcoming conversation, making certain that she knew exactly what she was going to say.

  Finally, the door opened and Miss Guyer entered the office with Miss Trelawney. The administrator was a plain woman in her early forties who always displayed an air of sophistication her actions never reflected. She glared at Aggie, surprised to see the young girl sitting there, smiling broadly. Aggie knew that Guyer could never have imagined what was about to take place.

  “Thank you, Gladys,” Guyer suggested, motioning to her secretary. “You can get back to work.”

  “Well, good morning, Miss Miller,” spoke the headmistress, turning her head and running her index finger through her graying hair.

  “Good morning to you, Miss Guyer,” Aggie returned the woman’s cold greeting.

  “May I ask what is so important that you are out of class?” Miss Guyer inquired in a most pejorative manner.

  “To tell you the truth, Miss Guyer,” Aggie continued, “my mother asked me to meet with you today to apologize for any discomfort that I might have caused while attending your school.”

  “Why, how wonderful!” the still dubious Guyer spoke, squinting her eyes in a troubling manner. “Come with me, please,” the head mistress motioned, opening the door to her office.

  As she made her way behind a large ornate desk, she inquired, “Does this mean, Aggie, that you will behave like a proper ‘Guyer girl’ for the rest of your days with us?”

  “That would be... Why that would be...” she stopped, for she couldn’t find the words.

  Aggie interjected, “Unbelievable... Incredible... Impossible?”

  “Hmmm,” Miss Guyer shook her head in agreement, adding mischievously, “ah...yes, particularly impossible!”

  “Well, I happen to agree with you, Miss Guyer,” Aggie spoke with genuine maturity and aplomb.

  The young girl began, “I wish to thank you for providing me with an excellent example of the worst that the teaching profession can offer. You, your staff, and most of your students are at best, a pretentious, self-aggrandizing lot that I no longer need stomach.”

  Miss Guyer sat there, staring, shocked and speechless. She looked like she was about to say something, but Aggie continued...

  “Here is a letter from my mother allowing me to leave the premises. I shall finally be rid of this horrible, horrible place, never to return.” Aggie spoke in a most diplomatic and calm manner.

  Guyer still hadn’t moved. She had been duly chastened and sat frozen in her chair.

  Aggie, displaying great poise, placed the letter on the desk of the “warden”, politely curtseyed, and left the building wearing a very broad, well-earned smile.

  Marching home, Aggie felt like a new person. No longer would she have to dread walking into that cold, hostile environment. To her way of thinking, only certain kinds of individuals could handle the type of harsh discipline students of the Guyer school were expected to endure. Clearly, they would not be her types. She couldn’t imagine how anyone could accept the terribly controlling environment which that school provided. Guyer was now only a dark memory, still, one that would never be forgotten.

  Arriving at the front door of her house, she found her mother nervously standing in the foyer, folding her hands, this way and that. Clara couldn’t wait to hear how her daughter had handled the situation.

  “Quickly, Aggie,” her mother begged, sitting her daughter beside her on a large couch. “Tell me, tell me...”

  “Mum,” Aggie began, “it was so wonderful. Miss Guyer never saw it coming. I did apologize for my behavior, although we both know that I did nothing out of the ordinary to ever have warranted the kind of treatment that I received at that school.”

  “Aggie, dear,” her mother excitedly inquired, “tell me more. Was there more? Did Guyer, er I mean Miss Guyer... Did she yell or scream at you? Were there any theatrics?”

  Clara started again before her daughter could respond, “You know, Aggie, I was truly concerned about sending you down there alone. It wasn’t two minutes after you were out the door that I began to shake, worrying about you.”

  “Mum,” Aggie responded, “that’s all well and good, but it was so much better for me to have faced her on my own. It felt so very wonderful to let her know what I really thought about her.”

  Clara could not restrain her joy, and smiling broadly, clapped her hands and reached over to give her youngest child a warm, heart-felt hug. That moment became one of the most important in her life and she would long remember and appreciate her mother’s caring decision to remove her from Guyer’s school.

  Next year, Aggie decided that she would redouble her efforts in a different educational setting. She would make her mother proud of her for the rest of her life!

  While the school had demanded much too much from a quiet, shy person like Aggie, the young girl knew that there was some truth in Miss Guyer’s references to her being a bit of a loner. Clearly, she had few close friends, excepting Margaret Cary. Prior to her captivity at the Guyer school, she spent much of her time doing things alone. Much of her loneliness had been filled by caring for her pets and her love for nature. Still, she had always been a pleasant, happy child. That is, except for the terrible recurring nightmares that she would experience from time to time.

  One particularly horrid character seemed to haunt her sleep on a regular basis. Her dreams would start out pleasantly enough. She would be going for a walk or present at a house party or attending some such event, when she would spy him. This man would be following her or suddenly appear at her table while she was having tea. Sometimes Aggie would see him along the beach, coming her way. She had named him the Gunman. Whenever his pale blue eyes looked her way, she would wake up shrieking and sobbing.

  Happily, Aggie had not received any such visits recently, and now, newly removed from the Guyer school, she was a changed pers
on.

  After a light meal with her mother, she hurriedly worked to complete her chores. Permission had been given to visit Margaret that same afternoon, and she couldn’t wait to share the good news with her best friend. When the dishes had been washed and put away, Aggie slipped on a light winter coat and kissed her mother good bye, “I promise I’ll be home today before dark, Mum. I love you very, very much!”

  She seemed to fly down the road to the Cary home. As she made her way, Aggie tried to think how best to disclose the good news to her best friend. She knew how happy Margaret would be, especially since all of the details of her unhappiness at Guyer’s school were known to her dear friend.

  “What if Margaret was still away?” she wondered.

  “Oh, well,” she reasoned, “it would still be the best day of my life.”

  The sun was now shining brightly, and the rhythmic waves could easily be heard as they steadily crashed over the rocky shore. Aggie felt a sudden urge to share her good news with the shorebirds, but that could wait for another time!

  As she approached the huge house, she noticed that there were several large carriages and drays pulled up along the main entrance. Some of the house staff were busy loading these huge conveyances with trunks and other such storage boxes that apparently had been taken from the house. Aggie hesitated, watching the events transpiring directly before her eyes. This would not do. She simply had to know what was happening.

  Nearing the front door, she hoped to see a member of the Cary family, preferably Margaret, but only the servants were visible, still busy with their tasks. Could it be possible that her friend and her family were leaving the area? How awful that would be.

  She was becoming very nervous, and all of this speculation on her part was not helping, not helping at all. Finally, she spied someone who could provide an explanation. She waved to Mr. Malcolm who was looking her way. He quickly made his way around the busy workers, issuing a stout warning to one of them, “Be careful now, Beatrice. That’s Mrs. Cary’s favorite outerwear!”