"Oh yes!" said Susan. "I like it!"
Chuckling, they joined the streams of girls heading for the Chapel for assembly.
---oOo---
Gabrielle Pearson stood proudly upright before Miss Markham's desk. Her auburn hair was neatly brushed, her uniform immaculate. With her shoulders back and her arms resting calmly at her sides, she was making an excellent impression on the two older women already.
She'd had only the briefest moment of panic when Miss Bainbridge had summoned her at the end of her History lesson; but she was certain she'd done no wrong and had nothing to fear. She'd wondered, of course, what it might be about and had hardly dared to allow herself to imagine that it might be this. But it was: Miss Markham had just invited her to fill the role of Head Girl, and she felt so proud she couldn't help but smile, though she also felt tears pricking her eyes. The Head and Deputy Head were also beaming with satisfaction at the successful conclusion of what had been a difficult process: at last, a highly suitable girl who actually wanted the position!
"Gabrielle, I understand that it is just your father and yourself at home?" asked the Headmistress kindly.
"Yes, Miss," replied Gabby, and now the tears were building. A good part of her pride was about her father's feelings - how very pleased he'd be.
"I shall telephone him this evening to give him the good news."
Gabrielle could hold them back no longer and she lowered her chin to her breastbone as the tears toppled down her cheeks. Miss Bainbridge was immediately at her side, placing a consoling hand on her right shoulder.
"Heavens, child!" she said, kindly, but slightly exasperated. "This is a strange way to take such good news!" Gabrielle's shoulders shook silently as she tried to control this outburst of confused joy and sorrow. Now Miss Markham stood and came over. She produced a handkerchief, lifted Gabrielle's chin and wiped the tears away from her cheeks. She smiled at the tall Head Girl.
"Gabrielle," she said, "how old were you when your mother died?" Gabrielle took a deep breath as the tears subsided.
"Fourteen, Miss." Verily looked at Edith, and then back at Gabrielle, with great compassion.
"That's very hard. I am so sorry..."
Gabrielle wiped her eyes and raised her eyebrows giving a kind of shrug. "It happens, Miss," she said philosophically. "And I'm not the only one. I'm lucky really." Both older women looked at her quizzically. "Having my Dad, my father - he's ... very kind, Miss."
"And so he should be, Gabrielle, and I'm very pleased. But tell me, when you say you're not the only one ..." Verily allowed her statement to hang in the air as a question.
"Oh ..." It took a moment for Gabrielle to pick up the cue. "Simpson, Miss. I heard Wilson - Wilson Junior, Miss - saying yesterday how Simpson lost her mother too and how her father sent her away here. She made it sound like her father didn't really want her, Miss, and ... I felt so sorry for her. It made me realise how lucky I am."
Verily and Edith exchanged a meaningful glance and Edith looked as if she'd had a particularly strong realisation.
"Indeed," said Verily. "Thank you, Gabrielle - you clearly have a kind heart ... " She went round the desk and resumed her seat. " ... Another reason why we have chosen you. Edith, let us gather round and establish some pointers for Gabrielle in her new role."
Gabrielle helped Miss Bainbridge bring two chairs from over by the chest of drawers so that the three women were now seated round the desk. Gabrielle felt even prouder - sitting in discussion like this with the two most powerful women in the school.
Miss Markham outlined the main duties: leading the team of prefects, prep reckoning duty, representing the student body on key occasions - they were not too onerous as the Head Girl was also a student needing to focus on her studies. Thankfully, young Gabrielle was gifted with a very capable brain and a considerable intellect and her teachers were all predicting at least B or A grades next summer. That she was also one of the most talented midfield players the school hockey pitch had witnessed in some years added to the feelings of pleasure and relief in both the Headmistress and her Deputy. Eventually, Miss Markham came to the one point that had been bothering her.
"Gabrielle, finally, I must ask you about Julia Bennett." Gabrielle met the Head's gaze evenly. She felt great loyalty to Julia and she hoped she was not about to be put in an awkward position.
"Yes, Miss?" she asked. Miss Markham paused and summoned a tactful expression to her face as she turned to Edith and Gabrielle in turn.
"We all know that Julia can be ... how shall I say ... " she smiled. " ... rather unruly at times. And it concerns me that in your new role you may be called upon to report her ..."
Gabrielle interrupted clearly and articulately. "Miss, I shall speak to Julia as soon as I can after our meeting now, and I will say to her that, even though she is my good friend, she cannot expect me to turn a blind eye to ... any ... unruliness. And, to be honest, Miss, I don't think Julia would expect me to. I don't think she'd put me in that position, Miss."
Verily and Edith exchanged happy glances. "Thank you, Gabrielle. That was exactly what I wanted to hear, and I rather think you are right about Julia anyway."
"And Miss," said Gabrielle. "I do think Julia is changing - when you asked her to be Head Girl, she really did think about it very seriously, and I think it did make her ... grow up a bit?" Miss Markham looked appreciatively at the young woman before her and said,
"You may well be right, Gabrielle. We shall see."
---oOo---
Susan had a study period before break and had just finished her Divinity homework for Miss Markham. She'd been terrified when she'd first seen on her timetable that the Head was her teacher for this subject, but actually the lessons were really interesting and Miss Markham was surprisingly relaxed in the classroom. Susan did not, however, take any chances when it came to her homework - she always made sure it was the best she could do.
Returning from the toilets to her form room five minutes before the bell was due to go, Susan was approaching 4A when she heard the tell-tale sound of a strapping in progress. She slowed down, looked up and down the corridor and waited just outside the door.
THWACK!
"OW!" she heard. Mrs Palmer was at it again! It occurred to Susan that this must have been just what Rachel and the girls of 4A had heard last Friday. She winced at the memory. She glanced up and down the corridor again, afraid of being caught here, and then knelt down, pretending to be doing up her shoe-laces.
THWACK!
"OOOOWW!" The cry was more piercing this time, making Susan shiver in sympathy. She wondered how many whacks whoever it was had already had. That was at least three, as she'd heard one from further down the corridor. She kept an eye in each direction ready to complete her shoe-lace tying and stand up if need be.
THWACK!
"AAAOOOW!" came an even-higher pitched squeal from the other side of the classroom door. Then Susan heard Miss Palmer's rather deep voice saying, 'Go and sit down' followed by a louder,
"Wilson!"
Poor Charlotte - sounded like she was in for it again. Susan heard someone coming and quickly made as if she was finishing tying a knot and stood. She straightened her skirt and looked up. It was Miss Gibson, but she turned into the staffroom. Susan breathed a sigh of relief and waited. If she -
THWACK!
If she knelt again and Miss Gibson came out, which was entirely possible, it would look very odd and she'd have some awkward questions to answer. Her heart was pounding but she stayed where she was, standing by the door.
THWACK!
"Ouch!" came from within. She pictured Wilson touching her toes (she didn't think Mrs Palmer would have made her lie on the bench as Susan herself had had to, not while a lesson was going on) and winced at the next, louder THWACK! This time, poor Charlotte let out a yelp and cried,
"No, please!" This was followed by Mrs Palmer's voice.
"One more, Wilson, and perhaps you'll learn to do what you're told."
THWACK!
"OOOOOWWW! Ow! Ow!"
Susan heard the fourth-former crying, and heavy footsteps suggested the teacher was walking away.
At that moment the bell rang, and Susan was safe. She backed away to the other side of the corridor and leaned against the wall. This was a perfect opportunity to show what SWACK could do. She knew where Bennett kept her cold cream and she reckoned Rachel's friendship with the Upper Sixth-former would make it all right to borrow some.
After half a minute the sound of chairs scraping and desk lids banging was followed by the door opening and the first of the wide-eyed fourth-form girls appeared, whispering in rather shocked excitement. Wilkinson appeared; she looked haggard and had obviously been crying. Susan stepped forward and said,
"Hey, Wilko, can I have a word?" She drew the young girl aside and kept her eyes open for Wilson.
Jane Wilkinson was happy enough to have the attention of Susan French right after a whacking and she was further comforted in her pain by the admiring looks some of her classmates were throwing her way as she stood with Susan's arm around her shoulders. Then Charlotte Wilson appeared, wiping her eyes with one hand whilst the other was firmly glued to her bottom.
"Psst! Wilson!" Susan beckoned Charlotte over to join them. Mrs Palmer might appear at any moment. "I can help - come with me," said Susan in a low, conspiratorial voice, setting off towards the stairs to the dorms. Jane followed readily, but Charlotte stood there, still crying quietly.
"Charl," hissed Jane urgently, and slowly the other girl followed. They'd just turned the corner into the stairs when Mrs Palmer came out of 4A and turned towards the staff room.
Susan found the Ponds in Julia's bedside cupboard. Very gently she soothed the lovely, cool, white cream into Jane's crimson and still-burning buttocks while Charlotte gradually calmed down.
"Mmm ... that's so nice, French," said Jane. "Thanks. It really helps."
Susan felt this was a good moment to make her move, so she started to explain about SWACK and outline the benefits as Rachel had explained them to her earlier. The two girls listened in silence. Eventually, Susan had said her piece.
Jane, examining her bottom in the mirror now, was immediately enthusiastic.
"Gosh, you mean we can join?"
Charlotte, face down on Bennett's bed with her bottom bared for Susan's ministrations, said nothing at first. But after Susan had so softly and carefully spread and smoothed the cool cream over her reddened, bruised bottom flesh, she too started to melt and eventually agreed to become a member.
"What happens next?" asked Jane excitedly. Susan had no idea what happened next - they hadn't really got that far - but she managed to disguise her ignorance by looking quickly at the door, and pretending to listen out for anyone approaching, and then saying, in as dramatic a stage whisper as she could manage,
"You'll be contacted. There'll be a meeting."
This was enough to make Jane and Charlotte's eyes widen in excited wonder.
"But, for Pete's sake, not a word ... to ANYONE!" whispered Susan loudly. Both girls shook their heads vigorously.
Just then the bell for the end of break rang and all three of them hurried back down stairs. The two fourth-formers had the Countess next and Susan had Miss Markham: not a lesson to be late for. But, more importantly, the Society of Whacked and Caned Knightesses had its first recruits.
---oOo---
Susan made it - just - slipping into the Lower Sixth C classroom just as Miss Markham herself appeared round the corner from her study. She scampered to her desk and gave Rachel, sitting by the window, a big wink and a broad smile. Rachel mouthed, 'What?' with eyebrows raised, but there wasn't time to explain.
"Good morning, girls!" boomed the Headmistress striding up to the teacher's dais, a stack of exercise books under her arm, her gown swirling behind her.
"Good morning, Miss Markham," chorused ten obedient girls, standing behind their desks.
"You may sit." They all sat.
"So girls, your first essays!" said the Headmistress surveying the class. Some sat up eagerly, others shrank and paled. "Overall, a pretty good effort. I am not displeased. We had some very interesting thoughts on the nature of the afterlife, though perhaps not surprisingly, you were all more knowledgeable about Christianity than you were about Islam."
She picked up the pile of exercise books and stepped down to the first row of desks.
"Linton ... good ... nice point about our father's house," she said, handing Penny her book. "Thomas, an elegant style but a bit thin on content." She gave Rachel an admonishing but not unkind look. She moved on through the desks, making brief comments and returning essays, until she reached Susan.
"French! You have some excellent ideas here, young lady, but ... dear oh dear! What grade did you get for 'O' Level English?"
Susan blushed and said, as quietly as she could,
"Five, Miss."
"Hm!" exclaimed Miss Markham. "I'm not surprised." She opened Susan's exercise book, found the relevant page and read for a moment. "French ... Islam is one word and it does NOT end with a B. It is not the same as ... " She paused and looked at the ceiling for a moment. " ... the sentence: Is lamb tasty with mint sauce!"
The whole class laughed and Susan blushed. The Headmistress hadn't finished with her.
"Furthermore, there may very well be angles in heaven ... " She gestured to the corners of the room. "There are angles all around us, but they do not represent all that is holy and good. I believe you mean ANGELS!"
Another burst of appreciative laughter rang out, but Miss Markham silenced it instantly.
"Quiet!"
She looked down at the very embarrassed Susan. "French, we thank you for providing us with some light relief, and I am not embarrassing you without a purpose. Your spelling is atrocious and there is no excuse: I wrote these words on the board last week. Give me your study card please."
Susan looked non-plussed for a moment, then the penny dropped and she opened her desk and rummaged around inside. It was a mess, of course, and it took her nearly half a minute to find the small yellow card, during which time Miss Markham stood patiently, emitting only a quiet sigh. Finally, an even redder-faced Susan held it up and the Headmistress took it and wrote two letters in the appropriate space, before handing it back and turning.
"Right, girls! I shall collect your latest homework at the end of the lesson. For now, let us turn our attention to what the Buddhists have to say about what happens to us after death."
Susan looked at the crumpled yellow card. There, in the second row in the middle - Tuesday, lesson three - was written NS. She felt like crying. She HAD studied. It wasn't fair. She couldn't help it if English was such a stupid language with such a stupid spelling system. System? It wasn't even a system! Just a random set of endless, completely illogical rules, and even more exceptions, that seemed to be specifically designed to get innocent girls into trouble! She sighed deeply and placed the card back in her desk.
"The purpose of life, it seems," announced the Headmistress, "is to achieve a state of enlightenment ..."
But all poor Susan could think about, as these momentous words rang through the classroom, was the state of extreme soreness her bottom was going to achieve on Friday if she got one more of those NS marks on her card. Bloody Buddhists, she thought. What do they know? She picked up her pen, unscrewed the top, opened her exercise book to a fresh page and wrote, 'Budizum' at the top.
20. A Bitter Pill
"Good afternoon, ladies. If you'd like to gather round, please, we can begin?"
Verily Markham stood by a chair at the end of the two large tables in the staffroom. She waited as her teaching staff gathered teacups and papers and found places. Edith Bainbridge took up her accustomed position next to Verily and the Countess appeared on her left, next to Emily Stokes. The faintest smile whispered at the corners of Verily's mouth as she observed the great care with which Emily lowered herself onto her chair whilst trying to disguise the fac
t.
Across from Emily, and Mrs Palmer to her left, sat Monica Gibson and Margaret Dawson, looking full of the joys of spring despite the autumnal nip to be felt in the draught coming from the open window behind them. Prudence Waring sat down next to Margaret and looked across with a smile at Emily.
"Colleagues, I have an announcement to make," said the Headmistress, still standing, interrupting the last remnants of conversations at the far end of the table. "We have chosen a new Head Girl." Interested faces turned in her direction. "It is Gabrielle Pearson of Upper Sixth B. Edith and I interviewed Gabrielle this morning and are agreed that she will, with the right support from all of us, fulfil the duties of the role satisfactorily. As you may have heard, I had been considering the controversial choice of Julia Bennett, which I know many of you will have found peculiar in the extreme." Some murmurs of assent greeted this last statement. "However, I hope I may have achieved something in the process, in that young Bennett did at least spend this weekend pondering the nature of responsibility and maturity." There was a quiet ripple of surprised laughter. "I am also optimistic that the friendship between Pearson and Bennett will have an edifying effect on the latter's behaviour, and lessen the potentially disruptive influence that she might otherwise have had on the younger girls."
Not for the first time this term, the Headmistress was the recipient of many admiring looks and nods of agreement. She turned to her deputy. "Now, Edith has some guidelines to share with you regarding punishments for study card miscreants."
Verily sat down.
"Thank you, Headmistress." Edith leaned forward, holding a sheet which she glanced at before looking up and around the table. "Ladies, from what I've gleaned since yesterday morning from your conversations in here, I suspect we are going to be very busy this Friday. It would seem that there are a large number of girls who simply do not take their studies seriously, who hand in shoddy homework to a poor standard, and who do not listen or retain what we are attempting to teach them, as is evident from tests set during lessons." There was a general nodding of heads and a 'Quite so' from Mrs Beecham. Edith continued. "All senior staff will therefore be called upon to help out in the administering of this first week's study card punishments on Friday. We have agreed levels of punishment for girls who have accumulated the equivalent of two Non-studiosus marks - NS for short - during the course of the week. We have decided that two Vix Studiosus marks - VS for short - will be regarded as slightly less serious than an NS mark. And so, if you could all note down the following..."
The Girls of Cropton Hall Page 26