The Piano Teacher

by Sophie Elliot

  And then the crash of entry, the noise and the laughter. It really was intolerable; virtually every other night her sleep was interrupted by those girls. What was it they did? Exercise Sciences? Some newfangled rubbish. It didn’t seem to require much work, at any rate. Lucy tossed in her bed, trying to drown out their din by burying her head under the covers. But then there was another crash and a peal of merriment. Something had been broken, obviously. Lucy wondered if it was one of her belongings. It would not be the first time, and she remembered when her mugs were smashed, not that there had been any offer to replace them. The girls seemed to revel in their wilful destruction and disregard for others’ property. That was the problem with them, thought Lucy; they were three selfish girls who always got what they wanted with no consideration for anyone else. She briefly entertained the image of each of them being made to visit Miss Martin, which made her smile. But then her amusement was cut short by another squeal and thump and something else being disturbed.

  Then there was the sound of heavy footsteps by her door, a click, and the music started. Within seconds the volume had been cranked up, and Lucy’s whole room seemed to shake from the thud-thud-thud of the moronic dance tracks that amused her flatmates so much. She felt like crying - it wasn’t fair!

  She burrowed under the duvet, determined to try and block the noise out, but it was no good. Beyond her bedroom door the girls laughed and nattered over the drone of the music.

  Lucy lay still for perhaps the next half an hour, but in the end her tolerance broke. She was tired, and there was no sign of any of the girls going to bed. Stiffly, she got out of bed and wrapped a dressing gown around her. She flicked the light on and rubbed her eyes. The sound of laughter and music seemed louder than ever, so she took a deep breath before opening the door. She hated confrontation, and especially with her peers, but eventually summoning up all her courage she opened her bedroom door and walked into the kitchen of the flat.

  All three girls were there, slumped around the table with glasses full of fizzy white wine and an overflowing ashtray. They had evidently been out to a club, and as if in uniform they each wore a brief top, mini-skirt, and heavy make-up. The music was way too loud, and as Lucy entered, Hayley, the ringleader, noticed her.

  ‘Well, fuck me,’ she drawled crudely. ‘Its no-mates Lucy.’

  Emma and Nicola, the other two, turned around. Emma curled her lip contemptuously, while Nicola just snorted a laugh.

  Lucy blushed uncomfortably. ‘Sorry to bother you,’ she started cautiously, ‘but I wondered if you could turn the music down... I’m trying to sleep.’

  ‘Oh, piss off, Lucy,’ Hayley grunted belligerently, taking a swig of her drink.

  The others laughed at the witticism of their revered leader, and Lucy felt her temper rising. What right did they have to wake her up and behave so rudely? All three needed a good lesson in manners, that much was for sure.

  ‘Look, I’ve got lectures tomorrow, and I really need some sleep,’ she tried diplomatically. ‘Surely you can just turn the noise down a bit?’

  ‘Surely you can just turn the noise down a bit?’ Emma mimicked, thinking her slurred impression highly amusing. Hayley giggled, leaned over to the stereo, and turned the volume up.

  ‘Oh, why did you do that?’ Lucy moaned, getting more and more upset.

  ‘Because you’re an annoying little cow with no friends and we don’t like you,’ Hayley said cattily, and Lucy felt tears start behind her tired eyes.

  ‘Please, just let me get some sleep,’ she pleaded, unable to understand why they were being so unreasonable and nasty.

  ‘Ah, look,’ said Nicola, mockingly, ‘she’s going to cry.’ The other two sniggered again, before mimicking tears down their cheeks with their fingers.

  Lucy knew then there was no reasoning with them. She was tired and near tears, and there were three of them together. She hesitated, almost blurting out what she thought of them, but knew she would break down if she did express herself, so not knowing what to do she quickly ran out of the kitchen and flung herself back on her bed, bursting into tears as she did so. She could hear the mocking laughter follow her down the short hallway, and the noise of the music beating against her ears. There was nothing she could do - she’d made a complete fool of herself in front of them and now living in the flat would surely only get worse, if not impossible. She clamped two pillows to her head, but their taunting laughter and the music still reached her ears.

  In the end she lay there for what seemed like hours, drifting in and out of restless dreams despite being intermittently woken by the noise. Eventually, at what must have been near dawn the music stopped, there was disturbance for a few minutes as the girl went noisily to their rooms, and then blissful silence. Lucy lay in the dark, her shame turning again to anger. As she at last drifted off to sleep in the silence, her thoughts were consumed by a single notion: to pay them back. Then, mercifully, she dropped off.

  The vicious alarm woke Lucy all too soon, and groaning, she reached out and grabbed for the offending article, but it fell to the floor and she had to scrabble around to find and silence it. Bleary-eyed she then sat up in bed, her head pounding. She would have given anything to have a few more hours’ sleep, but she had a lecture to go to, and the punishment for missing it was something she was rather keen to avoid in her present condition.

  Sluggishly she dragged herself to the shower and tried to wake herself beneath the hot torrent of water, but it wasn’t much help. Then she dressed quickly and grabbed a bite of toast before leaving the flat.

  There was a persistent dull ache behind her eyes as she walked, and the world seemed altogether too bright. Miserably, she recalled the events of the previous night, her humiliation at the hands of her flatmates. That was the difference, she thought, between them and Miss Martin. There were evidently two senses of humiliation - one that was edifying and strangely pleasurable, the other born of bullying and impoverished sense of what domination over another was. She found herself getting crosser as she remembered their snide laughter and crass language. If ever there were three candidates who were overdue for bringing down a peg or two, then her flatmates were they. Her only comfort was imagining them bent over Miss Martin’s desk, each on the receiving end of the whip, but it was of little good to her, though, for she knew Miss Martin would never take on such uncouth students.

  And so sighing, Lucy arrived at her lecture and took her seat, lost in her own world with her eyelids drooping. It would be a long hour, she knew.

  In the event, it seemed to go on forever. After a few minutes Lucy lost track completely and had to fight to stay awake. The droning voice of the lecturer, the warm spring sun slanting through the high windows, and the naturally dull subject matter all conspired to make consciousness a difficult condition to retain. She fought valiantly, though, and when it was all over she was able to congratulate herself on not dropping off.

  Eventually roused by the clatter of pencils and notebooks being collected, she shook her head to clear it and joined the crush at the door. Once outside the sun made her fragile head hurt again, so she went to the refectory to get something to drink. She bought a mineral water and sat in the corner, trying to keep out of the way. She sipped her drink gingerly, wondering whether to forget about the remainder of her day and go home to rest - at least it would be quiet in the afternoon in the flat. She was just pondering what to do when a familiar voice disturbed her thoughts.

  ‘Hello, Lucy,’ came the amiable tones of Dr Tovey.

  Lucy started, almost spilling her glass. ‘Ah - hello, sir,’ she stammered, quite at a loss.

  He laughed warmly. ‘“Sir”, is it now?’ he said, clearly amused. ‘Maybe I should spank you more often!’

  Lucy looked around in a panic in case anyone had heard, but no one seemed interested as Dr Tovey sat down opposite her.

  ‘So, how are you?’ h
e said in a friendly manner. ‘I do hope you’re behaving yourself.’

  Lucy wasn’t really in the mood for flirtation, and just smiled weakly. ‘Fine, thank you, Dr Tovey,’ she said. ‘I’m a little tired though.’

  ‘Yes, you do look a little peaky,’ he said, frowning. ‘Are you eating all right?’

  Lucy sighed; she would usually not have dreamt of spilling her problems out to Dr Tovey, but she was tired and fed-up. ‘It’s my flatmates,’ she said wearily. ‘I can’t get a good night’s sleep at the moment. They’re driving me mad.’

  Dr Tovey laid a hand on her arm. ‘You poor girl,’ he said. ‘Have you spoken with them about it?’

  Lucy gave a little derisive laugh, but there was no humour in it. ‘Yes, I have, but they take no notice. They’re frightfully rude, and last night they just played their music to annoy me. They seem to take great pleasure in picking on me and I just don’t know what I’m going to do for the rest of the term.’ Lucy’s beautiful eyes sparkled as the tears that had threatened to burst forth all morning did their best to blur her vision. She sniffed and used a tissue to wipe them, hoping the friend of her family wouldn’t notice her quivering chin.

  Dr Tovey shook his head and tutted, looking genuinely annoyed. ‘Well, that just isn’t good enough,’ he said. ‘What courses are they doing?’

  ‘They’re all in Exercise Sciences, I think,’ said Lucy, wondering what he was thinking.

  ‘Really?’ Dr Tovey smiled a wicked smile. ‘And these girls have been bothering you, you say.’

  ‘Yes, very much so,’ Lucy confirmed, any shame at telling on them outweighed by her sudden desire to express her frustration to somebody.

  Dr Tovey patted her hand reassuringly. ‘Well, I have a colleague in Exercise Sciences who probably teaches them. We shall have to have a word.’ He looked intently into her eyes. ‘Don’t worry about this, Lucy. It’ll all be sorted out in the next couple of days. Look out for a note in your pigeonhole.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ she asked, confused by his conspiratorial talk.

  ‘You’ll see,’ he said, getting up. ‘Why don’t you take the afternoon off? I’ll make sure Dr Crawford doesn’t get you into trouble. Just remember to check your mail.’

  And with that he sauntered off, leaving Lucy more confused than ever. She wondered about Dr Tovey’s ‘colleague’, and what did he mean when he said it would all be ‘sorted out’?

  But she was too tired to think about such things for long, and whatever Dr Tovey was up to, it was reassuring to know she could go back to bed for the afternoon without getting into trouble, so after finishing her drink quickly she walked back to the flat.

  The kitchen was still strewn with empty bottles and glasses, and the ashtray was still overflowing with stale cigarette butts, coated liberally with smeared lipstick, but she was in no mood to tidy up. Her limbs heavy, she stripped off and climbed into bed and almost immediately felt sleep tug at her.

  As she lay in the semi-dark, she suddenly realised how nice Dr Tovey had been. He had genuinely been alarmed by her tale of woe, and even stranger, concerned enough to help. That thought made her smile; perhaps he was not so much of an ogre after all.

  The next day Lucy awoke late, having forgotten to set her alarm the previous afternoon. She had no idea whether the girls had come back during the night, but she hadn’t heard a thing. She rose quickly, had some breakfast, and then remembered Dr Tovey’s instructions, so she left the flat and went to her department, and sure enough, in her pigeonhole was a note from the department of Exercise Sciences. She unfolded it and read.

  To: Miss Cavendish

  Your presence is requested at a special assessment session this evening. Please report to the main gym at 8.55pm sharp.

  Mr Galsworthy

  Lucy stared at the words for a few moments, and then walked to the library. Her mind was full of thoughts. Presumably Mr Galsworthy was Dr Tovey’s colleague, but she had no idea what an ‘assessment session’ was. Why should she attend, anyway? And why so late? But she had learned over the past few weeks not to question strange events too closely.

  When she reached the library she settled down to study, breaking her concentration only to take some lunch and spend a little time at the piano. She avoided the flat for the remainder of the day, fearing to bump into her flatmates after reporting on them to Dr Tovey. As the light began to dim slightly towards early evening, she bought a sandwich and walked over to the hulking mass of the sports hall. It was a supremely ugly building: a product of the disaster of the sixties, perfectly suited to the stunted aesthetic capacities of the students who participated in its variety of half-baked courses.

  Cautiously, she made her way into the reception. It was nearly time for her meeting, and the place had been closed for an hour. There was a vacant looking girl still at reception, so she went up to her.

  ‘Excuse me,’ she said. ‘Can you tell me where the main gym is, please?’

  ‘We’re closed,’ she responded curtly.

  ‘I have an appointment,’ Lucy persisted, a little annoyed at her manner. ‘To see Mr Galsworthy.’

  ‘Ah,’ said the girl, and gave a knowing smile. ‘In that case it’s down the corridor and first on the right. Good luck.’

  Lucy looked at her quizzically, but the girl disappeared into the back room with some files. Shrugging, she followed the directions and opened the door into a large, brightly lit gymnasium. Around the polished wooden floor was arranged a selection of apparatus: a horse, a wooden climbing frame, benches, ropes suspended from a wooden beam, and a springboard. The hall was empty apart from a man whom Lucy guessed to be the mysterious Mr Galsworthy. Upon seeing her he walked over and extended his hand.

  ‘Lucy Cavendish, I presume?’ he said in a robust, northern accent.

  ‘Yes, sir,’ said Lucy politely. ‘I received your note earlier today.’

  ‘Good,’ he said, and smiled at her. He was an exceptionally tall man, broad of shoulder and with tanned skin. One couldn’t help noticing that he had an extremely imposing figure, with a pronounced torso and firm, very well toned biceps. He reminded Lucy a little of a Victorian strongman. He was wearing trainers, tracksuit trousers and a T-shirt, all of which struggled to contain his massive frame. Indeed, his handshake was just a little too firm, leaving Lucy’s hand feeling as if it had been put in a clamp.

  ‘I’m the head of department here,’ he explained, walking over to inspect the ropes. ‘That means being responsible for all the sports science sessions in the gyms. Dr Tovey tells me you’re acquainted with the three girls being put through their paces this evening.’

  So that was it. Lucy relaxed and smiled inwardly. She could guess what was going on, and secretly felt a wicked surge of excitement. ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘They’re my flatmates.’

  Mr Galsworthy nodded. ‘Well, they have been very lax in their training over the last few weeks. Too many drinks and not enough discipline. We have a special regime for girls like them, and Dr Tovey thought you might want to watch.’

  Lucy had to suppress her excitement, but the prospect was becoming more and more attractive. ‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘I think I would enjoy that.’

  Mr Galsworthy smiled at her. ‘Good,’ he said. ‘You may go into the equipment room over there if you wish. It’s set into the wall of the gym, and if you sit down you won’t be visible from the exercise area. You can then relish the spectacle in complete anonymity.’

  ‘Then I will make myself comfortable,’ said Lucy, failing completely to suppress a grin. ‘Thank you again, Mr Galsworthy.’

  At that, she trotted over to the dark room. Inside she found a chair had been positioned just behind the window in the shadows, so she sat down and looked around. Laid on the floor were the usual paraphernalia of such a room: mats, nets, and various balls. Hung on the wall, though, was a curious selectio
n of implements: flat wooden bats, each with a handle and studded with holes.

  Eagerly she settled on the chair and looked out to the gym, secure in her secrecy. She could see everything from where she was, and was quite sure that she was invisible to all but the most determined eyes. She giggled to herself; this had all the potential to be the perfect revenge, if she knew Dr Tovey.

  Mr Galsworthy left the arena then and the hall was silent, but after a few moments Lucy heard shouting from the corridor outside, and the doors were flung open. To her delight her three adversaries jogged in to the accompaniment of Mr Galsworthy’s barked orders. She hardly recognised them at first, for each was wearing a uniform gym kit: trainers, brown socks, a tiny brown gym skirt, and tight white T-shirt. Their appearance nearly made Lucy cheer gleefully, for they each wore an expression of bemused terror. Clearly Mr Galsworthy had already made an impression on them, and Lucy wondered if he’d used the same tactics on them as Dr Crawford had on her.

  Mr Galsworthy brandished a long whippy cane in his right hand, which he cut through the air to beat time, and the three girls were made to jog around the perimeter of the hall, their knees high.

  ‘One, two! One, two!’ he barked, setting a blistering pace.

  As the trio passed Lucy’s window she was so close to them, and Hayley’s ample breasts were clearly not quite restrained correctly, for they bounced particularly noticeably. The gym skirts were the skimpiest possible, and as they flapped they revealed a pair of dark brown knickers stretched tight over each straining rump.