The Blazer

This is what I do when I'm bored at work. Hope you enjoy...

Rosie tugged her blazer and skirt straight, walked up the narrow staircase in front of her and knocked on the door of the prefects common room at the top. Apparently it was all perfectly normal for new sixth formers to be summoned to the prefects on their first day, but that didn't stop her feeling worried. She had been nervous about changing from her local village comprehensive school to the grammar school in the neighbouring county to do her A Levels, and the nerves weren't abating any now.
The day hadn't exactly been wonderful. It had started off well, as she proudly put on the smart Sixth Form uniform, so different from her previous school, but had rapidly gone down hill. Standing in the hall after assembly, there were only three new sixth formers, adrift among all the other new pupils, mostly 11 year olds who looked shrunken inside blazers bought "with room to grow" and dwarfed by giant back packs. Eventually someone had come and rescued them and taken them off to their tutor groups, and just before lunch she had received the summons to go and see Andrew, the head boy.
Inside the prefects common room was not as daunting as she would have thought. It was a cosy room, up in the rafters of the building, furnished with sofas, a table in the middle, and desks in the corners. There was also a little kitchen area, complete with a radio. Andrew had come and opened the door to her, and offered her a coffee before motioning for her to sit down next to him on one of the sofas.
"So, Rosemary, welcome to St Jude's. It's a tradition that the head boy personally welcomes all new sixth formers, so consider yourself welcomed! Now why don't you tell me a little about yourself?"
So Rosie told him about her decision to transfer to St Jude's for Sixth Form, her hopes of going study Modern Languages at university and working with the UN eventually. In return, Andrew told her what was expected of Sixth Formers in terms of work and behaviour, and how, for any lapse in standards, for behaviour at any rate, it was the job of the head boy to administer punishment. He also explained that this punishment would likely differ from her old school, involving, as it did in more serious cases, corporal punishment. He also pointed out that if she behaved herself, she was very unlikely to end up in a situation where she was being punished. Rosie tried not to look shocked at this talk of caning. Of course she'd read it in the brochure, and it had been talked about as a method of punishment, along with detentions and litter picking, at the open evening, but it still seemed inordinately barbaric to her. She quickly put it from her mind though, as she'd always been a model pupil, and couldn't see this changing anytime soon.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Three weeks later, after school, she found herself at the bottom of the same set of stairs, waiting. The door above her opened, and Kate came down, her face tear stained. Rosie gave her a quick hug as she came level. "He said to wait for five minutes and then go up. I'm sorry..." said Kate.
After five interminable minutes, she smoothed back her ponytail, checked everything was neat, and with a ragged sigh, started to climb the stairs slowly. Her stomach was jumping ridiculously. She hoped she wasn't going to be sick. She paused on the top step to compose herself, and then knocked.
The door opened and Andrew stood there with Hannah, the head of Constable, her house. They both looked at their most severe as they beckoned her into the room. There was a desk positioned in the middle with two chairs on the far side. Hannah motioned to her to stand in front of the desk as they moved round to the other side.
"Well, this isn't a good start, is it? Punished within your first month. I think that's something of a record."
Andrew's voice dripped heavy with sarcasm. Rosie could quite cheerfully have sunk through the floor. She stared down at her feet, afraid to meet his gaze.
"Look at me", he snapped.
"I find it hard to believe what I've been told. You allow Kate Rogers and Lucy Smythson to persuade you to break off from the cross country route, halfway through the run, in total defiance of all the orders you'd been given. And then, to make matters worse, you drink alcohol with them, and arrive back at school half an hour after the last runner in an obvious state of inebriation, just when the teachers were on the verge of sending a search party for you. You are very, very lucky that the head has handed this to us to deal with, rather than expelling you all straight away.
Is that what we can expect from you in future, Rosemary? And after such an exemplary behavioural report from your previous school! We have high expectations here at St Jude's, Rosemary, and we fully expected you would be able to meet and exceed them. Were we wrong?"
Rosie was blinking rapidly trying to hold back the tears. She'd never felt as ashamed as she did at this moment, standing in front of these two people, who, in spite of the age gap or merely a year or so, seemed as intimidating as high court judges at this moment.
"No, you weren't wrong. I'm sorry. It was idiotic of me. I've always hated cross country runs, and it just seemed like a funny thing to do to hide from everyone for a while. And then there didn't seem to be anything wrong with having a little drink. We didn't mean to be so late back and get everyone worried. We just got carried away."
"Well, I think it's time to show you what happens to students who get 'carried away'" replied Andrew. "Hannah is here as a witness to ensure that nothing untoward happens, but I will be the one punishing you. I want you take off your blazer, and your skirt, and bend over this desk, facing Hannah. You are going to get six strokes of the cane."
Rosie just stood and stared. She knew it would come to this. She'd known from the minute she chose to follow Kate and Lucy during the run. The reality didn't quite seem to be sinking in though. Andrew opened up a cupboard and pulled out a thin, long cane with a crook handle. She couldn't take her eyes off it. She'd never seen one before. It looked like nothing special - not the monstrous thing she'd heard the others talking about in the common room. If anything it looked like a walking stick that needed to be given steroids.
Hannah's voice asking her why she was just standing there brought her back to the present. With trembling fingers she removed her blazer and skirt. Then she bent and stretched herself over the table, until she was face to face with Hannah's glare. Unable to look at her, she buried her head into the wood.
She heard Andrew behind her, and felt him pull her knickers up, hard, so that most of her bottom was exposed, but her modesty was intact. Something to be grateful for, she supposed. She heard a swishy noise, and then a crack. For a few seconds she didn't feel anything, and then suddenly, a fierce pain spread across her cheeks. She lept away from the desk.
"What do you think you're doing?" asked Andrew. "Get back over. We expect you to take this punishment with some dignity."
The scorn in his tone made her blush, and she got back into position quickly.
"We have high standards here, Rosemary. We want all our pupils to do well. We won't tolerate stupid, reckless behaviour, and we won't tolerate you bringing the school into disrepute. You may not be proud of being a St Jude's pupil, but we are.”
Bent over the desk, tears started to fall against the wood. She was proud to be a St Jude's girl. Even in just three weeks she had come to love the school with its atmospheric buildings and its traditions. But all thoughts flew out of her head as the next stroke bit into her flesh. She stayed down this time, and the cane fell again. She reached out her hands and clung on to the end of the desk, like a ship trying to anchor itself in stormy waters. Three more times the cane struck home, branding her with a reminder of her foolishness.
At last it was over. She followed Andrew's order to stand and get dressed, managing to keep her tears at bay. However, when she reached for her blazer, she was in for one last shock.
“I don't think so” said Andrew. “Give me your blazer. You can come back for it in a week when you've proved that you deserve to wear the symbol of St Jude's. Until then you can explain to anyone who asks precisely why you aren't wearing it.”
At this last pronouncement, the tears could be staved off no more, and started again in earnest. Her shame was complete. Not only had she been caned within three weeks of starting, but her beloved blazer, the symbol of her new school, with its attendant hopes and dreams, had been taken from her as she was deemed not fit to wear it. Unable to face the intimidating stares of Andrew and Hannah any longer, she turned and fled the room, down the narrow staircase, ignoring the waiting arms of Kate, to the back of the tennis courts where she spent the next half an hour sobbing as if her heart would break.