Lowewood Academy

“Dropping like flies, your lot,” said Andrew Tough, squeezing past me a little too closely with a mug of steaming coffee in his hand. A mug which, right now, I longed to empty over his head.

“My lot?” I queried sweetly, pretending innocence. “I thought we all belonged to Lowewood Academy. Or have you got some exciting news for us about your imminent departure…?”

The question hung in the air. I didn’t need to look around to know that right now a good proportion of the staff room were muttering, “If only,” under their breaths.

“No,” he went on regardless, “your lot as in Dashwood. I hope you’re not taking it personally. You know, what with you being their moral guardian and all that.”

I gritted my teeth. Taking it personally? Goodness knows I was doing my best not to, but with one of my charges off to rehab and another disappeared in a moonlight flit, I wasn’t so much in loco parentis as in loco shambles, really.

(And yes, I know that’s not Latin.)

(more…)

“You - you, of all people, Claudia Delamere - cancelled a sports practice so you could go buy a frock?!  Did you have a personality transplant or something?”

My friends fell about laughing, the mean buggers!  Faye was leading the piss-taking, ably backed up by Gabby, Lyds and Pippa.

“No!” I protested, indignant despite my grin.  “Anyway I didn’t cancel it, I just… didn’t go.”

“Well that’s just as freaky!  Nothing, but nothing, usually comes between you and athletics, Clauds.”

“Yeah I know, but honestly: when else could I have gone?  I had matches at the weekend, then either practice sessions or supervising prep every evening - and the soirée’s this Saturday!”

“I hope Laurence won’t object, anyhow” commented Pippa mildly.

“I put Vanessa in charge and briefed her beforehand, so it really shouldn’t have been a problem,” I countered, slightly defensively.

“I’m sure it won’t be,” agreed Lydia.  “Anyway, more to the point right now, let’s see this famous dress please!”

(more…)

“Enter.”

I pushed open the door to the Headmaster’s study and walked into the room on legs that had turned decidedly jelly-like. Although I was 99.9% sure that I wasn’t in any trouble, there was still a panicky 0.1% of me that was terrified that I’d somehow managed to commit a grievous sin without realising what I’d done.

“Ah Faye.” Mr S stood up and I couldn’t help noticing that he actually looked rather pleased to see me. Well, that was a first…

“Please sit down,” he said, gesturing to one of the comfy armless chairs by the fireplace.

I obeyed and he sat down opposite me. I couldn’t help remembering, with a squirm of embarrassment, that he was now sitting in the exact same chair where he had sat to spank me last time I was in his study. 

(more…)