Category: 2000 Words

Sitting  in the small room, Sally could hear the excited cries of her school friends floating up from the tennis courts, where, on this bright and summery June Saturday, the  St Hild's Abbey School for Young Ladies was holding its Annual tennis inter-school tournament.

The girl sat there, a concentrated frown on her face, slowly writing and reflecting on the essay she was composing.  Although in detention, this glorious summery day, she no longer bore the sullen and petulant look she had a week ago. She no longer hated Helen Willloughby, Senior Prefect.

Helen it was, who had found Sally, the Saturday before, breaking bounds, on the beach a mile from school.  First Form girls were not allowed out of the school on their own.  They might, on a Saturday afternoon, with permission, go down to the village in groups of three. They might, on a Saturday afternoon, with the aid of an obliging prefect, take the omnibus into town, or be invited to join a ramble got up by a kindly teacher.  They were definitely, absolutely and unequivocally not allowed to be wandering by themselves anywhere outside the school gates.

Helen, of course, being a Senior Prefect was allowed to be out on her own and she was legitimately on the dunes collecting samples of seashore grasses for her botany class.  Having spotted the errant junior on the sand, Helen it was, who climbing down to the beach, enquired, in her ever-so-polite supercilious voice whether Sally had any possible excuse, reason or explanation for being there.

Sally hung her head.  She had an excuse, but not one which she cared to admit to Helen.  Sally was an only child.  Her father, having been exposed to a gas attack in France in 1917 had succumbed to his injuries three months before the birth of his only child in 1921.  For years Sally and her mother had been all in all to each other. Father's death had left mother impoverished, but they made do, in their little house, with mother's old Nanny as their perpetual guardian, housekeeper, cook and watchdog.

In summer they visited mother's sister in St Austell, where she enjoyed swimming, boating, and all other seaside pleasures with her cousins. In winter they travelled north to Darlington to visit Father's elderly parents and spend the holidays with her other set of cousins.

That was where it had all gone wrong.  Grandmother, hosting her usual Christmas Eve party, had invited one of Father's army friends.  Giles had been good fun, taking time to seek Sally out and talk to her about Father.  He had done the same with mother too.  Done it so well that just over a year later they had married.  Sally had been wary about Giles coming between her and her mother, but that first 'married' summer went well.  Until the day when Mother told her that after the holidays Sally would be going to St Hild's Abbey.

The school was dedicated to St Hild, a medieval leading light for womanhood.  Sally didn't care that it was a fine school with an excellent tradition and a most distinguished Head and staff.  She knew she was being sent away because Mother didn't want her any more.

Matters were made much, much worse when, during the Christmas holidays Mother gently told Sally that in the late spring she would be lucky enough to have a baby brother or sister.  A kernel of hatred burst into life - Mother had forgotten about Father when she married Giles but now she would forget Sally with her new baby.

It was the letter from her mother, that afternoon, informing Sally of the arrival of her new baby sister Felicity that prompted her to run blindly out of the commonroom, through the garden and out of the school gates, down to the beach.  Suspecting that if she tried to explain all this to the Senior she would only be greeted with scorn, Sally chose to hang her head and say nothing.

Ignominiously she followed Helen back up the hill towards the school, where Helen duly sought out the Duty Mistress to make her report.

Miss Thorpe was a pleasant person.  A graduate of Girton, her knowledge of literature was encyclopaedic.  Her classes were interesting and the girls appreciated her dry sense of humour.  She was not, however, the sort of person in whom Sally could confide. Miss Thorpe did not draw Sally out.  The drill was that breaking bounds was a serious enough crime to be reported to the Headmistress Mrs Fletcher.

Thanking Helen, Miss Thorpe instructed her to escort Sally to Mrs Fletcher. Although Sally had collected her fair share of punishments from various Mistresses and Seniors during her time at the school, she had never before had the misfortune to be called before the Headmistress.  Indeed, other than a Welcome To The School Address during her first week, Sally's only contact with Mrs Fletcher had been from the safe distance of the ranks during Assembly.

The corridor outside Mrs Fletcher's office was almost empty.  Only two Sixth Form girls waited there, and Sally suspected that they were there for reasons other than remonstration as they seemed neither.anxious nor ill at ease.

The shorter of the two girls indicated to Helen that they were happy to wait and let Helen take care of business first.  Checking her wrist watch to make sure it was past 5pm, Helen's decorous tap on the door elicited the command "Enter."

Helen opened the door and the girls entered..  Mrs Fletcher looked inquiringly Helen, who succinctly explained why they were there.  A look of displeasure crossed Mrs Fletcher's face.  She thanked Helen before dismissing her, and praised her for having justified the trust and confidence she had in her Senior Prefects.

It was a most unpleasant interview for young Sally.  Mrs Fletcher asked for an explanation, which Sally, defiant in her nervousness, declined to give.  Patiently the Head explained the need for rules, why bounds were especially important and why it was vital that girls went about in groups of no less than three when they left the school grounds.

Sally's eyes narrowed.  A small part of her acknowledged that she was being unreasonable and deserved this lecture.  Her sense of injustice and rejection outweighed and good sense and the notion that she was hard done by in being sent to one of the premier girls schools in the country made her harden her heart and bear grudges.

Seeing reason was having no obvious effect on the girl, Mrs Fletcher became more scathing.  She pointed out how selfish of Sally it was to abuse the trust placed in her, not just for the extra work it would impose on anyone set to guard her in future, but also how it might affect to the detriment the confidence Mrs Fletcher placed in her girls.

Mrs Fletcher was somewhat puzzled.  Sally had not seemed initially to be a sullen child, yet here she stood, head hanging not in shame for the disappointment she had caused to her teacher, but in a brooding manner most unpleasant in one so young.

Sally was lost in a mire of hatred. She hated them all for not understanding her.  She hated Helen who had got her into trouble. And above all she hated Felicity, because if she never been born then none of this would have happened. It was that in this unhappy frame of mind Sally  stood before her Headmistress that day.

Once more Mrs Fletcher moderated her tone and asked Sally to confide in her if there were some problem, but Sally was too far done in her morass of bitterness, and raising her head to stare defiantly at Mrs Fletcher, Sally said, quite clearly and distinctly, "Mind your own business"

Mrs Fletcher was astounded.  Never before in her career had she come across a child who would openly descend to such rudeness.  Her eyes turned icy and inwardly Sally quaked, knowing she had not just broken a boundary but had fallen into a chasm  out of which she could not climb.

"Contrary to your mistaken beliefs, my girl," announced the Headmistress, "While you are in my school I am in loco parentis, and that young lady, means that I am as responsible for you as your own mother. I very much doubt you would have the audacity to address her in that way, and neither is it permissible here."

She paused, and looked at Sally, but could still see no signs of remorse, so continued.  "You will spend Saturday in detention, writing an essay for me, 2000 words on the importance of rules in a school, with particular reference to the purpose of bounds and exeats.  That is the standard punishment earned by girls who break bounds."

Mrs Fletcher rose to her feet.  "For this defiant rudeness, though, much as I regret to use corporal punishment on my girls, kindly hold out your hand"  Picking up a heavy ruler from her desk, Mrs Fletcher waited, until reluctantly Sally raised her hand and extended it, palm upward.

Sally had tasted the ruler before, she would survive it.  Biting her lip to aid her resolve, she did her best not to flinch as the ruler slapped down into her palm.  It was a heavy ruler and the stroke elicited a sharp intake of breath from the girl.  Again the ruler rose and again Mrs Fletcher directed the blow onto Sally's left hand.

It was all Sally could do not to draw her hand back as for the third time Mrs Fletcher smacked the unforgiving wood into the girl's soft hand which was now burning and felt as though it had swollen to twice its proper size.

"Have you anything to say," enquired Mrs Fletcher, only to be met by a shake of Sally's head.  "Very Well," said the Head, "I would have hoped for an apology if not an explanation. I will not allow this defiance to continue.  Remove your blazer and your shoes."

So saying Mrs Fletcher opened the cupboard behind her desk and after a pause, extricated a slender cane from within.  Following the instructions she was given, Sally moved a chair into the centre of the room, then, blushing, reached under her skirt and lowered her knickers to her knees.

"Bend over," came the order.  For a fleeting moment, Sally contemplated flight, but where could she go.  She obeyed, bent forward, then reached back and raised her skirt before grasping he seat of the chair.  Never before had Sally been caned.  On rare occasions, Nanny had spanked her little bare behind, and on one horrendously memorable instance, Mother had used her own hairbrush on her.

Nothing could possibly have prepared her for the intense searing pain of her first stroke of the cane.  She felt winded, couldn't breathe. Another stripe of fire joined the first, this time eliciting a deep gasp. As the third stroke fell, Sally felt she would burst with hatred, resentment, and this slashing all-invading agony.  Mrs Fletcher did not shirk her duty, knowing that she had to breach the barriers this child had set up around herself, and without giving Sally chance to react, the fourth and fifth strokes fell, and with a deep and shuddering breath as the final sixth stroke cut into Sally's wealed backside, the dam of tears broke, and Sally sobbed out her hatred, resentment and bitterness.

Laying the cane down on the desk, Mrs Fletcher gently drew the sobbing child into her arms, soothed her and held her as her confession came tumbling out.  Sally could not spell catharsis, but she knew that somehow Mrs Fletcher would make everything come right again.

A week later, sitting in Detention, embarking on her 2000 words, Sally was a different child.  Mrs Fletcher had arranged a visit from her mother, and despite the essay, despite the weals she could still feel, despite missing the tournament, Sally knew she was loved and was happy again.