How many more? And then what's he going to use on my poor bottom ?

Although music was an option at Bexhill, a number of parents had signed their daughters up for piano lessons under the impression that playing an instrument would increase their eligibility. Some of the girls were happy about this arrangement; others less so. Two who were definitely in the latter camp were Angie and Alexia.

Angie had just finished her lesson with Mr Delius. More correctly, the lesson hadn't actually finished: it had been abruptly terminated by Mr Delius when it became apparent that Angie had once again failed to learn her basic scales. It was beyond Mr Delius' comprehension how anyone could not master the simple principles of doh, re, me and so on unless they were simply terminally lazy. And laziness was something he knew exactly how to deal with.

"Get up, lift up your skirt and bend over the stool," he ordered curtly, tapping his hand with the three-tailed tawse he now kept in permanent view on top of the piano. With other girls, the mere sight of the strap appeared to have provided the motivation required.

"No sir, please sir, let me try again. I'm sure I can do it."

"You had your chance. Now get yourself over that stool or there'll be extras."

"Please, sir, please..." but Angie's voice was tinged with resignation. She'd been through this before. There was never a second chance and that wetched strap stung like blazes. She tried one last, pleading look up at the stern face of the Music Teacher and knew it was hopeless. Every nerve ending on her bottom seemed to have gone on 'Red Alert' over what was about to happen.

 

Next illustrated story HERE

 

Facing the music (1)

Image from Janus