How many times was the Deputy Head going to tell the girls to keep the Senior Common Room tidy? He was fed up with checking it only to find spilled coffee, unwashed cups, crumbs, and crisp packets left strewn around.
He'd seen Anne walk out of the door and head off down the corridor, so he'd popped his head round the corner to make sure that all was ship-shape. Sure enough, there on the table was a pool of spilled coffee. He touched it, it was still warm. He walked purposefully back to the door and shouted at the retreating figure.
Anne stopped and looked nervously around.
"Come here, at once!"Anne timidly returned.
"Were you drinking coffee in here just now?"
"So is this mess on the table yours?"
"Why didn't you clear it up?"
There was no good answer except "Sorry, sir."
"Sorry you will be." He pulled out one of the tubular steel chairs.
"Bend over, put your hands on the seat." She reluctantly complied.
He lifted her skirt, and then to her horror she felt her regulation school knickers being slowly pulled down. The air was cool against her bare bottom.
"Stay there, I'm going to fetch my hairbrush."
Anne felt the butterflies fluttering in her stomach. The Deputy Head's hairbrush was a heavy, much-feared implement. She tightened her grip on the seat. He seemed to be in an evil mood; she hoped it wouldn't mean that she'd get more than six.