Out of the Frying Pan, Into the Fire
Friday, October 31st, 2008
I knew something like this would happen. I was never in favour of Lowewood accepting boys. Taking boys into a girls’ boarding school is like keeping matches in a firework factory. One day there’ll be a dreadful bang and a worse mess to clean up. Thankfully and purely by chance disaster was narrowly averted this time.
It was last evening, I’d finished chatting to Dr Higgins in his apartment and was just about to drop by Juliet Aston-Beresford’s room to remind her about the school open day when my attention was caught by what sounded like a girlish squeal. Now the sound of girlish squeals is not uncommon in Lowewood: be they squeals of delight or squeals of anguish, I’ve heard plenty in my time. But not, generally speaking, from the direction of the sixth form boys corridor. And at 10 o’clock at night, it didn’t take Inspector Morse to be suspicious. I stopped dead in my tracks and listened. Yes, there it was again, definitely a girlish squeal, followed by laughter – two boys laughing. I tracked the sound, identified the room, and with mounting anger at the flagrant disregard for school rules I prepared to pounce. Drawing myself up, I turned the handle and burst into the room.
Loading ...
