Lowewood Academy

Felix bucked under my hand as it cracked down across his naked bottom. It was already bright red and I intended to make it a darker red before I’d finished with him. Despite his efforts to take it bravely, he couldn’t help wriggling, so tightening my grip on the wrist I was pinioning behind his back, I slid my booted foot round to pin his legs flat and concentrated on my task.

I glanced over at the clock. Nearly 3pm! I was due in the stables at three.

Finishing with a flurry of smacks to his bottom and a few on his thighs, I released him.

“Right, stand up. Pull your trousers and pants up. Let that be a lesson to you – don’t be late with my post again. Now, fetch my riding hat and crop, I’m due at the stables to meet Sibella.”

I stood up as he scrambled to pull his trousers up and smoothed down my pristine white jodhpurs. Then I pulled on my hacking jacket, checked my hair was properly plaited back, took my hat from Felix and put it on, then took my crop out of his hands. He hesitated.

“What are you staring at?” I said sharply. “Run along!”

(more…)

I wasn’t in the best of moods on Saturday morning. Rachel and I had planned a whole day together and the plans did not involve me being stuck in a stuffy classroom for four hours.  Dr Higgins had caught me just as I was coming out of breakfast.

“Ah Mallinson… yes… just the chap.” He gave me that vague look that he sometimes has, as though he can’t quite remember what he is going to say next.

“Sir?”

“You’re a prefect aren’t you?”

I nodded. He knew full well that I was a prefect, so why was he asking? The reason soon became clear.

“I need someone to take detention for me,” he explained. “Something has come up that needs my urgent attention… so I… I won’t be in school today.”

From the copy of the ‘Racing Post’ that Dr Higgins had quickly slipped beneath the pile of books he was carrying it was obvious what was demanding his ‘urgent attention’.  No doubt the racing card at Kempton had proved too much to resist. Not that I was even going to hint at what I suspected. We all knew Dr Higgins’ love of gambling but no-one ever mentioned it.  “They’re in classroom 7a…here’s the list.”

(more…)

From Lydia’s warm embrace - into the chilly detention room on Saturday morning. From wearing nothing at all in my own poky kitchen - into the uniform, stiff with stiff with starch, and the full prefect regalia: badge and cane and all.

I surveyed the roomful of delinquents, giving a particularly sour glare to my sister Lavinia, who was something of a regular at Saturday detention. Other than her, there were few Dashwood regulars: no Violet Kynaston, no Charlie Ballincrea, no Fliss Tweedie. Juliet’s crackdown was doing them some good. The room was full of fifth-formers today, in a massive fallout of the ongoing war between Dashwood and Wilkes. I doubted these girls even remembered why the war had broken out, and yet, here they were, its miserable casualties.

“I’m not in the mood for any nonsense,” I told the assembled masses. “It’s bloody cold, and I had a late night. If you lot were better behaved, I could have had a lie-in today.”

(more…)