The Girls of Cropton Hall

by Stanlegh Meresith

  "I know, Jenny, it isn't, it isn't fair at all, but you see, you remind him of her and he's still so sad and so angry at losing your mother, he can't separate you in his mind. Maybe he did a good thing in sending you to us. Maybe he understood that he was being unfair and treating you wrongly but he just couldn't help himself. Maybe after this term away from home, when you go back, he will have realised - you aren't your mother, you're Jenny, his lovely Jenny who I'm sure he loves very, very much. In fact I think he probably loves you more than anyone in the world."

  "Oh, Miss!" Jenny leaned against Margaret's shoulder and sighed. "Thank you, Miss. I think I understand better now. Poor Daddy. I wish I could go home now. I wish I could see him ... but then I don't know if..."

  "I know, Jenny. Give him some time." She lifted Jenny's chin again and gazed kindly into her shining brown eyes. "And how could he NOT love you, my dear? How could he ever want, even for a moment, to hurt YOU? He never meant to, I'm sure, and I don't think he ever will again. But give him a bit more time. And anyway, you have your studying to do, don't you? You're not just here at Cropton Hall to NOT be at home. You're here to learn and grow into a good, strong woman ... like your mother perhaps."

  Jenny nodded. "Yes, Miss, I see what you mean. I think I've just been so ... angry and sad myself since I came here that ... well, I have got into trouble a lot haven't I?"

  "You certainly have, but I think we understand why a bit better now, don't we?"

  "Yes, Miss."

  "And so perhaps you can behave yourself and work harder from now on, eh?" She ruffled Jenny's hair affectionately. Jenny smiled and said,

  "Weeeell, Miss ..." as if she wasn't sure, but then she laughed. "Yes, I can, Miss. I'm sure I can."

  "That's what I like to hear. Now then," said Margaret, standing and offering a hand to Jenny who hauled herself up, "it'll soon be time for tea and you'd better go and wash your face." She held out her arms. "Come here," she said. Jenny walked into the hug and they stood holding each other for a few moments before Margaret placed a kiss on the top of Jenny's head and stood back. "If you ever want to talk, just come and find me. I will explain things to Mrs Palmer and Miss Stokes so they won't judge you too much on your reputation so far. But don't expect any mercy, young lady, if I find you up to mischief! And you know Miss Markham won't tolerate any nonsense!"

  Jenny grinned. She placed her hands on the back of her skirt and rubbed up and down. "No, Miss. No mercy, Miss."

  Margaret walked her over to the door. "You have a lovely friend in Alice Jennings, but don't let her lead you into hot water, and no more midnight assignations! Is that clear?"

  "Yes, Miss," said Jenny sheepishly.

  "Off you go then."

  "Thank you, Miss. Bye, Miss."

  "Goodbye, Jenny."

  Margaret closed the door and walked over to pick up the slipper which lay on the floor by the upright chair. She held it up and looked at it, shaking her head wonderingly.

  ---oOo---

  Prudence Waring had 5B for Geography again in a few minutes. She rather dreaded teaching 5B, especially this lesson, last thing on a Friday afternoon. She had them three times a week and she'd been struggling all term to get them in line. Jennings was especially trying, chipping in with frequent quips that had the other girls giggling but which invariably stopped short of being outright rude or impertinent and Middleton too was a bane with her cheeky and uncooperative manner.

  Last year, Prudence reflected with a sigh, she'd have had this lot exactly where she wanted them within minutes of the first lesson of term through sheer, threatening nastiness, but since her caning by Verily she'd found herself simply unable to be that kind of tyrant any longer - and she was glad of it, but she was also aware that she was struggling to find the right balance and that till now she'd been erring too far on the side of being a 'soft touch'. It had taken her over a week to issue her first punishment slip and she'd found herself smiling inwardly at girls like Jennings rather than referring them for punishment as she probably should.

  But then she'd gone and given French that VS for nothing much at all. And she'd happened to see the girl's stripes from the Friday caning when she'd been passing the bathrooms on the floor below her room on Sunday morning. She'd felt awful; had wanted to go in and say sorry. And the gnawing feeling of guilt in the pit of her stomach had got worse since then - she kept seeing those stripes and thinking about how casually, almost randomly, she'd picked on poor French. But ... she knew what she needed to do about it now. Emily'd told her this morning that they were invited to Monica's tomorrow night. She shivered with a mixture of fear and anticipation at what she was going to ask for.

  The bell rang. Prudence gathered up her books and hurried along to the Countess' form room to face 5B.

  She heard squeals of riotous behaviour when she was still twenty feet from the door and quickened her steps. The first thing she saw when she got there was Middleton, strap in hand, chasing Pringle - and this was the mistress' strap that was supposed to remain on its hook at all times except when in use by authorised members of staff. Pringle was squealing in half-pretended fear and pushing whatever furniture she could behind her to block Middleton's path. The other girls, who'd been clapping and encouraging this nonsense, fell silent when they became aware of Prudence's presence, but Middleton didn't notice and caught up with Pringle by the window. She had just pulled back her arm to aim a blow at Pringle's rear when the deathly silence in the room finally registered. She looked around, saw Miss Waring, lowered her arm quickly and muttered,

  "Sorry, Miss."

  Prudence took a deep breath and rose to this clear-cut challenge with gusto.

  "SORRY?!" she bellowed. "You WILL be ... very sorry indeed! Now sit down everyone, THIS INSTANT!" She marched to the teacher's dais and plonked her books down on the table. Girls scurried to seats.

  "Middleton," she barked, crooking her finger in summons. Grace approached, trying to keep the strap dangling from her right hand out of sight. But Miss Waring held out her hand and said,

  "Give that to me." She took it and replaced it on its hook. "Now go and stand in that corner," she commanded, pointing to the one to the left of the blackboard, nearest the dais. With a barely concealed pout and a 'Tsk', Grace obeyed. But Prudence wasn't having that.

  "I BEG your pardon!" she said icily. Grace carried on towards the corner. "COME BACK HERE AT ONCE!" shouted Prudence. Grace stopped and turned, failing in that split-second to conceal the smirk that she'd been showing the girls on that side. "HERE!" barked Prudence, pointing to a spot on the floor just below where she was standing on the dais. Grace walked over, looking rather worried now, thinking, 'Crikey! What's got into Very Waring all of a sudden?'

  "Middleton, I have had entirely enough of your thoroughly impertinent attitude for the past two weeks and this time there will be consequences. Now you will go and stand in that corner and remain there, ABSOLUTELY STILL, until I tell you otherwise." Her voice carried a threat and a conviction that had been missing all term, but at the same time, she discovered to her relief, it did not feel like the tyrant of old. She was in control now, and not acting out of spite or malice. This girl, she felt, really did deserve punishment. "Do I make myself clear?"

  Grace nodded meekly now and said,

  "Yes, Miss." She walked, head bowed, to the corner and stood there with her hands clasped behind her back.

  The lesson, at last, could begin. For homework the previous week the girls had been assigned to write lists of facts they'd researched about Australia. These Prudence had now marked and was ready to return. Most girls had come up with reasonably thorough collections of relevant information and she gave praise where it was due as she gave back the exercise books. When she reached Alice, however, she stopped and opened the book to the relevant page.

  She stood over the bright-eyed but now blushing girl, re-reading what she'd written. The class waited, hushed not only by Prudence's recent fierceness towards Middleton but also in expectation of
what was to come: everyone enjoyed Jennings' humour and they guessed, correctly, that they were about to get another sample - and further piquancy was added to the moment by their uncertainty as to how the mistress would react.

  Prudence cleared her throat, enjoying the feeling of expectancy - and the blessed silence - in the classroom.

  "Jennings," she began, "an inhabitant of Tasmania is NOT known as a Tasmaniac."

  Titters broke out, silenced immediately by a sweeping look from Prudence. "And nor was South Wales shipped in its entirety half way across the world to be renamed New South Wales. I was in Cardiff myself this summer and I can assure you that South Wales is still very much where it's always been. Stupid girl!" she said, cuffing Alice very gently on the head. Alice ducked and smiled and the class laughed. She turned over the page. "And may I ask why, on ... one ... two ... no fewer than FOUR occasions you refer to somewhere called 'Me Springs'? I know Australia well, Jennings, and I am quite certain there is no such place."

  "That's Alice Springs, Miss. It's my name, Miss. I just thought..."

  "I don't think you 'just thought' anything, Jennings. What I do think is that you're an inveterate clown," said Prudence drily. She hadn't finished.

  "And, in reference to the sheep-farming industry ..." she looked down her nose at Alice with a deliberately hard-to-fathom expression, neither angry nor indulgent, "... it is NOT, Jennings, the sheep who do the farming." She lifted the exercise book level with her face and read aloud: "The sheeps are organised into teams, known as flocks, in order to do the planting in the spring and the reaping in the autumn. As unpaid labour, they provide the landowners with greater profits."

  Another titter, slightly nervous this time, skittered along the rows of desks.

  "Jennings," resumed Prudence, "that last point might have been quite percipient had ANY of this NONSENSE been TRUE!" A hush fell. She continued and Alice squirmed. "It gets worse," she said looking round briefly to silence further giggles before turning back to read from Alice's exercise book. "The groups of sheeps are also sheared to make flock wallpaper."

  There was further laughter. Alice was grinning from ear to ear. Unfortunately not for long, as Prudence tossed the exercise book onto her desk and strode to the front saying,

  "You will do the homework again, Jennings, and complete two full pages, please, of ACCURATE information."

  The class were suddenly quiet and Alice silently mouthed a 'Damn!'

  The lesson proceeded with reading aloud around the class from the textbook, 'Industries of Australia', with occasional questions fired at any girl who looked as if she might be dozing off - it was an exceedingly dry book, not out of keeping, of course, with vast stretches of the country it purported to describe.

  Grace Middleton, meanwhile, stood uncomfortably in the corner shifting her weight from one leg to the other at regular intervals and making sure she only sighed very quietly. Prudence shot frequent glances in her direction, ready to pounce on any deviation from the 'absolutely still' instruction she'd issued.

  With ten minutes to go, Prudence interrupted the reading and said, "Linton!"

  "Yes, Miss?"

  "Go to the staffroom and ask Miss Bainbridge to come here, please. Tell her there is a disciplinary matter to be dealt with immediately. As quickly as you can, please."

  "Yes, Miss," said Linton, getting up and walking speedily to the door.

  All eyes shifted to Grace in her corner. She bowed her head, guessing the attention she was getting. Pringle and Jennings were looking rather nervous too. Prudence herself took up the reading from 'Industries of Australia' but had scarcely read a paragraph when Linton appeared at the door, followed by the Deputy Headmistress.

  Prudence put the book down and went over to greet Edith whilst Linton resumed her place. The two mistresses stepped out into the corridor and spent about a minute in quiet conversation. Grace heard her name mentioned, and noticed her teacher's occasionally indignant but otherwise calm and determined tone. Eventually Miss Waring entered, went over to the dais and lifted the strap from its hook. Miss Bainbridge appeared just inside the doorway and called out, "Pringle! Come over here."

  Ann Pringle was blushing furiously as she got up and made her way towards the door. Prudence had returned and handed the instrument of punishment to the Deputy Head, who pointed to a spot near the wall and commanded, "Stand here and touch your toes, girl."

  Pringle bent over and reached down, her fingers stretched out straight to grasp the tips of her black shoes.

  "Miss Waring, if you please," said Edith. Prudence stepped forward and lifted Ann's skirt and blazer up onto her back.

  "We will NOT tolerate noisy tomfoolery in the classroom!" announced the Deputy Head, whereupon she whacked Pringle hard with the strap, once, twice.

  Ann gasped and winced and bent her knees. The strap was raised again.

  WHACK! WHACK!

  "OOOOWW!" cried Ann, bending and stretching her legs again. "Ooooooh!"

  "Get up and go back to your seat!" barked Miss Bainbridge. Ann's hands went straight to her buttocks and rubbed. Her face was scrunched in pain. The Deputy Head now followed Prudence over to the dais, holding the strap between her two hands, whilst Ann walked slowly back to her desk.

  In the corner, Grace's legs were visibly shaking. Her head was turned up to the ceiling and her hands at her sides were playing nervously with her skirt.

  "Middleton!" boomed Miss Bainbridge. Grace turned and, head bowed, stepped towards the dais. "Stand up here and face the class, girl!"

  Grace stepped up and turned to face her fellow-pupils. She kept her head down, trying to conceal her fear and embarrassment.

  "This girl," said Miss Bainbridge to the class, "has not only shown extraordinary impudence in removing Countess Potocki's strap from its rightful place, she has also been consistently rude and defiant in Miss Waring's lessons throughout the term."

  Grace's hands were playing with the front of her skirt now as she continued to burrow her chin as far into the front of her throat as she could.

  "Yes, Middleton, and don't think Miss Waring didn't notice your smirking earlier either. And as you seem to be so keen to show off to your classmates with your impertinent expressions, you will now bend over the table here and let them see how you look whilst I apply this to your bottom." She raised the strap and pointed to the table in front of her.

  Grace moved over and stood as instructed, facing the class. She took a deep breath and bent forward.

  "Miss Waring..."

  Prudence lifted Grace's blazer and folded it up to her shoulders. She then took her skirt, rolling it up onto her back where she patted it into place. Grace kept her face down so her nose was touching the table top.

  "You will remain in position until I tell you to get up. Is that understood?"

  "Yes, Miss," muttered Grace.

  Miss Bainbridge stepped back, raised the strap and took aim.

  "THWACK! THWACK! THWACK!"

  Grace couldn't help but lift her head as she cried out and everyone saw the grimace of pain that distorted her features at this opening salvo of burning strokes. Thompson and Humphries, the two girls at the desk closest, had both flinched as the strap came down. After about twenty seconds to allow the effect of her first efforts to be properly felt, the Deputy Head raised the strap and...

  "THWACK! THWACK! THWACK!"

  Grace's eyes squeezed shut and her mouth opened wide and she let out an agonised,

  "AAAARRGGHH!"

  Her feet stamped loudly on the wooden boards of the dais and her classmates watched in horrified fascination as her fingers stretched and bent over the edge of the table nearest them. Grace's head shook from side to side, her hair falling across her face and then being flicked away, while her face itself, stretched and twisted, revealed her desperate struggle to endure.

  Miss Bainbridge appeared not to have finished. She stood impassive, strap dangling at her side, for another thirty seconds or more while Middleton squirmed and gasped,
only stepping back once more when the girl had started to settle down. She raised the strap high and brought it down once more in three rapid, ferocious strokes.

  "THA-WHACK! THA-WHACK! THA-WHACK!"

  Poor Grace just screamed. Her torso writhed and her legs gave way. Her knuckles were white clutching the table edge and her head jerked back as she bellowed her torment to the opposite wall. Her scream turned to pitiful moaning and tears streaked her cheeks as she lowered her head to the table in defeated shame. She had no thought now to how she appeared to her cowering classmates.

  Prudence looked serious but calm. She was a little shocked at Edith's severity and she felt sorry for Middleton at this moment, but at the same time she reckoned that this thrashing would probably have the intended effect in improving her behaviour, and in sending a message to others. She looked over at Jennings and saw she had tears in her eyes. She looked back to Middleton who was crying quietly now, her shoulders shaking, still shifting about uncomfortably on the table-top.

  "Right, Middleton, you may get up," said Miss Bainbridge at last and Grace very slowly pushed herself up. Her face was damp and drawn, her eyes squinting, her mouth wide with wincing and strands of damp hair were stuck to her forehead. Her blazer and skirt fell back into place. Her hands started to move behind her but then she appeared to resist the temptation and held them stiff at her sides. She stepped down off the dais very carefully and walked slowly and gingerly along the front row and then back to her desk where she stood for a moment before easing herself very gently onto her seat with another grimace.

  Absolute silence reigned. Miss Bainbridge passed the strap to Prudence who replaced it on its hook. Miss Bainbridge then surveyed the class sternly.

  "Middleton has been punished and that is an end to the matter. However, be warned, girls, that the same fate awaits anyone who dares to remove any of the implements, or behave in a riotous manner in the classroom. Do I make myself clear?"

  "Yes, Miss," was heard quietly from several desks, accompanied by nods from most.