Regrets
By
Clarissa
It was only a short drive back from the boys’ school, Tillwood, to the main school at Camsford House, but for Miss Svenson it had seemed like an eternity; indeed, the culmination of a thoroughly disagreeable afternoon.
Not only had she had to witness the punishment of one of her pupil’s, Miranda Spears, at the hands of another – a resounding six of the best with the strap from Tillwood’s headmaster, Donald Rudd – but she had also had to endure Rudd’s excruciating combination of sycophancy and self-regard. Yes, she had assured him on the phone that morning, she was fully aware of his prowess with the cane (enough to bring the hardiest sixth former to tears in three strokes); of his disdain for the strap (less painful); and of his unerring trust in her abilities and judgement. Yes, yes, yes.
And, of course, the punishment itself had not been pleasant. Miranda Spears had not complained unduly, but it felt wrong for one of her charge to be punished by another, particularly a man, and particularly a man such as Rudd.
Now, to cap it all, she was having to drive the silent, tear-stained school girl back to school.
Miss Svenson had thought about underlining to the girl the deservedness of her punishment during the brief journey back, but as the car pulled onto the gravel drive, she realised she had said nothing. Coming to a halt, the school girl’s hand poised impatiently on the interior door handle, Miss Svenson simply heard herself saying ‘You are of course excused prep, Miranda. Feel free to go back to the dorm and recover yourself; I’ll send along matron shortly.’
As expected, the girl did not reply, but merely pulled back the handle and headed out of the door. Miss Svenson watched as the tall fifth-former made her way slowly across the gravel, stopping only once to flick back her long blond hair; a gesture of seeming defiance for which Miss Svenson suddenly felt unaccountably glad.