A difficult customer
by
Clarissa
She didn’t enjoy using the cane, Miss Svenson reminded herself as she stood at the study window, watching the raindrops course down the gothic arches. No, for her, the cane was the weapon of last resort; the weapon you used when all other sanctions – tellings off, lines, standings, nose to the wall in the corner, had not worked. Still, when she did use it, she intended to make it hurt. After all, this was for the good of the girls: this was not just about punishing past bad behaviour, this was about encouraging future good behaviour, even if this was accomplished through fear. And mostly it worked; mostly, girls would leave her study, tears flowing hotly, and promising not to come to her attention again. But, and she sighed, this was not always the case: there was sometimes what she referred to as ‘difficult customers’.
She turned from the window and sat back at her desk, upon which sat the file of fifth former Miranda Spears. She opened the file, the wind now howling inconsolably outside, and took out the note from Miss Thomson: ‘Dear Elsa, I would be grateful if you could deal with Miranda Spears. As you know, she has a general insolent attitude towards staff, but this morning her insubordination reached new heights when she refused point blank to complete her lines. I would be very grateful if you could deal with her severely. Yours exasperated, Helen.’
‘Exasperated’ was a heavy word, and ‘severely’ left no doubt in her mind that Miss Thomson was calling for the cane. And so it would be. Here came the knock.
‘Come in,’ boomed Miss Svenson.
A tall, blonde-headed girl walked in and stood before her desk.
‘I won’t take long over this,’ Miss Svenson continued, ‘as I’m sure you know why you are here.’
No response from the schoolgirl.
‘This level of insubordination is not to be tolerated: do you understand?’
Still no response.
‘And it’s not the first time you have come to my attention,’ Miss Svenson now removing a sheet of paper from the file. ‘I had hoped you had learned your lesson from last time.’
Still no response, not even a waiver from the schoolgirl. Miss Svenson stood up.
‘Take off your blazer off and bend over the desk; I am going to give you six strokes of the cane – and I intend it to hurt very much.’
Without a murmur the schoolgirl removed her blazer, hung it over the back of the chair by the door, and stretched over the desk.
‘Lift up your skirt,’ – the girl complied. ‘Don’t move!’
Miss Svenson waited a moment, then walked across to the corner cupboard and selected her weapon; she had already decided on the senior cane.
She steadied herself, reminding herself that this was a necessary – though painful – part of her duties as head.
She slammed down the cane, right across the schoolgirl’s blue school knickers. A slight jerk and gasp, but nothing more from Miranda. Was she really going to submit to this without response?
Another stroke, then another in quick succession, allowing no time for recovery. By the end, Miss Svenson was slightly sweating, but the schoolgirl remained impassive across the desk.
‘Get up, and adjust your skirt.’
Up stood the schoolgirl, and turned to Miss Svenson.
‘Thank you, Miss Svenson!’ demanded the head.
‘Thank you, Miss Svenson.’
‘Do you have anything else to say?’
An apology would be nice; but nothing came. Still, Miss Svenson was pleased to note, Miranda did at least look somewhat discomposed.
‘I want 100 lines from you by this time tomorrow young lady, and heaven help you if you disobey.’
Miss Svenson looked at the 15-year-old in front of her: ‘”I will not be insubordinate in class” – 100 lines by tomorrow!’ she went on, although somewhere deep inside her she wished they could be ‘I will not be so brave when caned’!