Rachel stood up and glared at Miss Bainbridge. "I was talking too, Miss."
The mistress looked stunned for a moment but quickly recovered. "Very well ... Jennings, sit down ... Hold your right hand out, Thomas." Rachel did so but she didn't take her eyes off Miss Bainbridge's face as the strap fell with a crack across her palm. She flinched and winced but she made no sound.
"And your left."
Miss Bainbridge seemed not to notice the defiant gaze Rachel was fixing on her, absorbed as she was in watching the proffered hand. The strap rose again and left its stinging red swathe. Rachel gasped.
"Right, sit down, Thomas and don't..."
Suddenly Grace was standing. "I was talking too, Miss," she said, staring straight ahead.
Without a word being spoken, Grace held out first one, then the other hand, and Miss Bainbridge strapped her. The Deputy Head then replaced the strap in the drawer. She stood, hands on hips, looking down at the three girls and shaking her head, then she looked at her watch.
"Right girls, it's time. Follow me."
Clutching the sides of their ribs with their throbbing hands, the three girls trailed after the Deputy Head as she led the way inexorably in the direction of the Hall.
---oOo---
Margaret Dawson had met the Headmistress and Lady Althorp in the corridor and offered to escort her Ladyship to a suitable seat on the stage in the Hall. She'd been very taken aback when the school governor had looked her up and down and asked, rather loudly, "And how's your bottom today, my dear?"
Margaret had blushed and been struggling for a response when Verily had come to the rescue.
"We should try to hurry along now, ladies. If Assembly doesn't start on time, then the canings will be delayed."
This reminder of bottoms for her attention more pressing than the recently whacked Miss Dawson's had been enough to distract Lady Althorp and relieve Margaret of a potentially embarrassing conversation. Verily had given her a knowing smile though.
Seated in adjoining chairs at the end of the row of staff nearest to the door by which they'd entered, Margaret had observed how alert Lady Althorp became as soon as she'd put on her spectacles and started to scan the rows of girls before her in the Hall. The old lady had sat upright, both hands resting on the stick firmly planted in front of her, her eyebrows twitching in concentration.
Verily had opened this special Assembly with a speech outlining the origin and purpose of Founder's Day, giving thanks to the Campbell sisters and the ideals they had stood for. She'd also explained the symbolism of the school crest (now proudly back in place above the stage and showing no evidence of any tampering): how the kneeling girl represented the humility they should all feel in relation to the open book depicted on the other side of the cane (for to Verily it was indeed a cane and not the hockey stick Mrs Weekes had interpreted it as). The cane itself, of course, needed no explanation.
She'd then moved on to issue a warning to the girls to be on their very best behaviour throughout the day, with so many visitors expected. The hymn had been sung, prayers said, and now Verily had, unusually, moved back to the lectern to address the school once more.
"Girls, I now have to perform a painful duty which I sincerely wish had not been made necessary."
Margaret heard footsteps just outside the door near her seat, followed by Edith's voice whispering, 'Wait here'. Edith herself then appeared in the doorway. The Headmistress continued,
"However, as you all know, earlier this week the school crest was crudely vandalised. As Miss Bainbridge assured you they would be, the perpetrators were quickly identified and the time has now come for them to face the consequences of their actions."
Miss Bainbridge stepped forward, just to Margaret's right, turned and waved the three girls in. Jennings, Thomas and Middleton appeared and were ushered forwards to the side of the stage where they stood in a row facing the school, heads bowed, hands clasped together before them. Miss Markham acknowledged their presence with a brief glance and went on: "The very public desecration of the school crest calls for a very public retribution. That these girls' actions threatened to cause the school embarrassment on Founder's day has led me to the conclusion that no other punishment than a caning before you all was sufficient."
She picked up Molly which had been leaning, unseen to the school though not to the staff, against the back of the lectern all along. She then signalled to Miss Bainbridge who walked across the stage to the far side. Joined by Mrs Palmer, they lifted a small table into the middle of the stage to the right of the lectern.
Margaret was then intrigued to see - and she noticed Lady Althorp also peering with interest at this - Verily opening a small bottle of brown liquid which had sat on the shelf beneath the sloping part of the lectern. She tipped some of the liquid onto the palm of her left hand and then rubbed it into the last twelve inches of the cane. Then she summoned the first girl.
"Middleton."
With Molly in her right hand, its last third glistening in the morning light, Verily stepped to the side of the table. The terrified fifth-former approached unsteadily, her plimsolls squeaking on the polished wooden floor, and stood where Verily indicated with the end of the cane: in the middle of the table, with her back to the staff, facing her schoolmates. A tense hush filled the hall. Margaret could see Middleton's knees quivering as she stood there. She was rubbing her hands on the side of her shorts too, presumably to wipe off the sweat caused by her nervousness.
"Middleton," announced Verily, her sonorous voice reaching every corner of the Hall, "has admitted to her involvement in painting the word SWACK on our school crest." She turned back to the quaking girl. "Bend over the table."
Middleton reached across and gripped the far edge, having to go up on tiptoes slightly to do so. She adjusted her waist against the near edge to find a ... comfortable position. Margaret sighed inwardly at the irony. She felt sorry for the three girls. She glanced across at the other two, still standing at the side with their heads lowered. A public caning was an ordeal she'd never had to endure; she imagined how she herself at that age would have died of shame to suffer such a thing. She had, though, experienced Molly on several occasions under Miss Bentley's fierce tutelage, and she knew how furiously it bit and stung and bruised.
As Verily raised the cane, Margaret wondered what the oil was for, but the moment the first stroke struck she understood: a brown mark appeared across the middle of the seat of Middleton's shorts, making the line of impact immediately visible. Equally immediate was the girl's reaction: her head flew up, she cried out and her legs kicked up behind her.
Margaret noticed Lady Althorp's knuckles turning white as they clutched the top of her stick. The old lady was also breathing rather noisily.
Middleton bore the first five strokes well. Verily placed them skilfully in parallel so that no two landed on the same spot. Yes, the girl screeched and moaned with increasing intensity but she held on and she didn't beg. But the sixth crossed two earlier ones, as the brown line quickly revealed, and Middleton jumped up, yelling, her hands flying behind her to grasp her rear. Verily waited patiently, eyebrows raised, the cane slack in her hand. Eventually, Middleton recovered enough to look sideways at the Headmistress, wondering, as perhaps were they all, if that had been the last of her punishment. Verily, however, simply nodded sternly at the table, and with a sob Middleton bent herself over again. Verily looked around for Edith, who stepped quickly forward. Verily muttered something and Edith took up a position at the front of the table to the right of Middleton's head, ready to reach down and hold her in place if necessary, but not blocking the school's view of the punished girl's face.
Margaret found herself wincing as Verily raised the cane again, but she wasn't prepared for what followed. Verily delivered three strokes in very quick succession, each one diagonal to and crossing earlier ones, the last two digging in low down. Poor Middleton hardly had time to scream at the first before the next two were slicing in to traverse her rear again an
d again. Miss Bainbridge reached across and pressed down on the girl's shoulder-blades as she started to rise after the first of these rapid swipes. The pitch of Middleton's yelps grew higher at each stroke and her bottom wriggled desperately from side to side as her upper body was held in place, her legs kicking out behind her.
Margaret stared in awe at the pattern of brown stripes left on the girl's white shorts as she lay sobbing and moaning over the table. Lady Althorp turned to her with her eyebrows raised. She nodded and whispered, "She's good, isn't she?" Margaret nodded back and turned to watch as Miss Bainbridge helped Middleton up and guided her over to the opposite side of the stage where she made her stand with her hands by her side facing the staff, the rear of her white shorts on view to the school.
Verily applied fresh oil to the cane and looked across at the two remaining girls.
"Jennings!"
---oOo---
Oh God! Poor Grace! Nine! I'll cry my eyes out, thought Rachel. And how will Alice bear it?
As her friend stepped tentatively away from her side, Rachel was able to sneak a look across the stage for the first time since they'd entered the Hall. Alice had blocked her view before. What she saw was the table, and Miss Markham standing by the lectern in her gown with Molly dangling at her side. And Grace by Miss Bainbridge on the far side, shifting uncomfortably from foot to foot, her tear-stained face still twisting and grimacing. As Alice approached the table, Rachel caught a glimpse of Miss Bainbridge removing Grace's hands from her brown-striped bottom and replacing them firmly by her side with a muttered reprimand. Then Rachel noticed Miss Markham frowning at her and she quickly faced the front again.
"Jennings is the other girl who chose to daub our school crest with black paint," announced the Headmistress. "Bend over the table."
Rachel twisted her fingers together and prayed for Alice.
The swish and the crack of the first stroke echoed through the silent hall, followed after an eerie pause by an anguished cry.
As the second stroke landed and Alice yelled, Rachel sought distraction. Guessing all eyes would be on the centre of the stage now, she lifted her head very slightly and looked out from under her raised eyebrows at her schoolmates. She saw Charlotte sitting next to Jenny in the second row, Charlotte staring transfixed, Jenny with tears pouring down her cheeks. Then she looked for Susan and soon found her. She too was watching Alice but, as if she'd been checking regularly, (and I should bloody well hope so), she glanced over and their eyes met. Susan tried to smile, the corners of her mouth twitching upwards, but she couldn't make it and the next moment she'd lowered her head and Rachel saw her shoulders shaking and Emma turning to comfort her. Here we go again! Useless girl! I'm the one who's supposed to be crying, not you! But she felt a surge of gratitude blossom, warm love in her chest. She felt so cared for.
Trying desperately to ignore the strokes wringing agonised cries from Alice, Rachel let her eyes range over the rows, watching as girls flinched at each swish and crack.
After six there was a pause again as Miss Bainbridge came to the table. Rachel peeked out of the corner of her eye and saw Alice, her face streaked with tears, looking up to her left at Miss Markham. Rachel heard a faint, 'No, Miss, pleeease ... " and saw her lower her head to the table, sobbing.
Rachel didn't dare watch as Alice's last three whipped home, swish-cracking one, two, three, but Alice's cries made her own sorrow well up and she lowered her face as far as it would go, struggling to hold back the tears. Alice was crying, 'Ow! Ow! Ow!' Two tears spilled from Rachel's eyes and plunged to the wooden floor.
It's my fault! Poor Alice. Poor Grace. What have I done? And now it's my turn. O God, please help me be brave. Take a deep breath, Rachel. Any moment now, she'll call my name and I'll walk over there. I wish I could turn back time. Must try not to falter, got to look brave, but my legs feel like jelly, they might just buckle under me and then I'd fall to the floor and they'd all think I was faking and just trying to get out of it. No chance. Oh god! Nine with Molly. I'll scream. I need to pee. It's my turn.
"Thomas!"
---oOo---
As Thomas walked with quick and determined steps over to the table, Margaret noticed Lady Althorp's breathing had become quite laboured. The old lady was staring as Edith positioned Alice next to Grace on the other side of the stage, placing the weeping girl's hands firmly at her sides with a whispered admonition. Margaret turned with concern to her elderly neighbour and whispered,
"Are you all right, your Ladyship?"
Lady Althorp shook her head impatiently and waved her away with a dismissive hand. But then she turned and smiled kindly, though her face looked rather strained. "Yes, dear, I'm fine, fine ... thank you," she muttered, turning back to gaze admiringly at Verily, who cleared her throat and addressed the school again.
"Thomas has admitted to encouraging and inciting the two girls just punished although she did not herself participate in the vandalism. She has also admitted to taking a number of girls to a room that was out of bounds, despite the fact that she had already been caught and punished herself for that very breach of school rules only a few days earlier." She paused and gazed sternly at Rachel. "I am quite prepared to allow any girl one mistake, but when a girl deliberately, and ... defiantly chooses to make exactly that same mistake again, and shows a complete disregard for school rules and my own warnings, then she can expect nothing less than the harshest punishment." She swished the cane with great gusto in two quick downward motions. "Bend over the table, Thomas."
Margaret watched as the sixth-former cowered at Verily's words. Poor Thomas! Trouble just followed her around. Margaret remembered the first night of term, and the look on Thomas' face when she'd come upon her in the dorm straddling and whacking Jennings with a hairbrush: the wide-eyed innocence, with that twinkle of mischief ill-concealed behind it - a girl who'd get away with what she could.
Not this time though.
Having oiled the cane afresh, Verily laid on the first stroke with her customary determination, a distinct brown line appearing across the centre of Thomas' bulging shorts - which, Margaret noted, were clearly too small for her. The girl went 'Oof!' as she was jolted forward but showed no other reaction. She was clearly made of sterner stuff than the other two who'd cried out pitifully from the outset. She took the next three quietly too - she just gasped and shook her head and wriggled her bottom, an action that made Lady Althorp sit up even straighter. However, Margaret could see by the rise and fall of her shoulders how hard Thomas was breathing. Sensible girl - the secret to endurance was in the breath, as Margaret well knew.
The fifth stroke did elicit a loud 'OUCH' from the sixth former and Margaret saw that it overlapped slightly with a previous one. The sixth created a new line slightly higher up and again Thomas took it almost silently, though her legs were lifting after every stroke now and her bottom was unable to remain still, writhing and wiggling for several seconds after each new stripe.
Edith came towards the table but Verily turned and shook her head. Edith stepped back to her place by Middleton and Jennings. Lady Althorp was wheezing noticeably now and Margaret gave her another concerned look but the old lady was so intent on the brown stripes on Thomas' bottom, that Margaret knew better than to try and say anything.
The caning continued at the same pace - there was no quick seven, eight, nine, as the others had received - and after the eighth Margaret could sense Thomas beginning to crack: she let out an agonised yell, her head flew up, her knees bent and her heels came up, almost to her bottom - not a good idea, that, Thomas, - before subsiding again.
She noticed a sob as Thomas settled to face the ninth - just one sob, but it was a tell-tale sign to the girl's dorm mistress. And the next stroke, very low down, almost at the top of her thighs, unleashed the torrent she'd expected.
"AAAAOOOOOH!" screamed Thomas and she rose up, her hands reaching behind to clutch her buttocks. "AOOH! AOOH! AOOH!" She danced from foot to foot for a few seconds before stilling and r
ecollecting herself and placing her hands back on the table. Then, slowly and very reluctantly, and bravely Margaret thought, she reached for the far edge and presented herself again. But that was nine, and surely Verily didn't intend...
She did. She turned and motioned for Edith to come over.
Thomas' heavy breathing was now indistinguishable from the sobs that wracked her. When Edith's hands pressed down on her upper back, she looked up at her momentarily, a silent anguished appeal wrenching her features, before she lowered her face to the table again with a groan.
Verily raised the cane slowly, her face impassive, her eyes concentrated solely on her target. And Margaret could see where she was aiming: there was a patch of white between the eight strokes that criss-crossed the upper and middle parts of the girl's bottom and the low ninth stroke that Thomas had just found so hard. And it was indeed to this fleshiest, softest area that the cane now flew, slicing the air and thwacking, digging in, once, twice, thrice, three swift flashes of the Headmistress' unwavering arm.
Thomas howled, bucking against Edith's controlling hands. Her legs kicked the air in helpless anarchy and she keened her pain to the back of the hall before she broke into loud sobs and moaned, "I'm sorry! I'm sorry!"
Margaret's heart went out to her. She turned to Lady Althorp to comment on the girl's bravery. Her Ladyship had sat back and the stick rested slack between her knees. Her mouth was fixed in a strange smile and she was staring glassily at Thomas' bottom. Margaret leaned forward and round a bit to get her attention. It was then that she became aware that the old lady had stopped breathing. And her eyes hadn't moved or flickered since Margaret had turned her way. She placed two fingers on her Ladyship's left wrist to feel for a pulse, fairly sure there would be none.
There wasn't.
Thomas was being led to the far side of the stage and Verily had stepped forward - mercifully, in front of where Margaret and Lady Althorp were seated, partially blocking them from the view of most of the girls. Margaret reached out her hand and closed Lady Althorp's eyes, terminating forever that capacity for sight whose final gaze had been upon the striped gym shorts of a recalcitrant sixth-former. As, perhaps, she would have wished, thought Margaret.
The Girls of Cropton Hall Page 53