This chapter describes the bullies efforts to get at the foursome and particulaly Martina.
Their efforts fail and eventually the bullies are isolated.
Lucinda proves to have 'blossomed' into a truly beautiful and popular Head girl.

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Martina’s Story 7.

Myself. Martina, A sexually dysphoric child whose sexuality has not
yet been ascertained but who chooses to present as a girl.

Beverly My adoptive ‘aunt’ who is a mature shemale and my most supportive adult friend.

Chenille My older half sister.

Jennifer Aunt Beverly’s adopted daughter.

Beatrice Aunt Beverly’s second adopted daughter and Jennifer’s younger sister.

Sian. My lesbian mother who is married to —

Margaret Who is Chenille’s lesbian mother.

Sissy. My and Chenille’s transvestite shemale father.

Sandie. My doctor, psychiatrist and sexual counsellor.

Judge Elizabeth Porter. The judge who ruled that I should be allowed to live and dress as a girl.

Angela Hunt. Jennifer and Beatrice’s natural blood mother who is now married to Aunt Beverly who is a shemale.

Lucinda. Martina’s ‘best friend’ at St Angela’s School.

Baroness Wemite’ Sian’s old School Chum

Peter Baroness Wemite’s son

Melanie Baroness Wemite’s daughter and my friend.

Rosemary & Monika. Two bullies in the junior school.

For those readers who wish to get a deeper insight and appreciation of my home circumstances, I suggest that they read Skipper, the story about Aunty Beverly’s rescue and adoption of Jennifer and Beatrice. This is a ‘follow on story’ about my childhood. It starts chronologically after Aunty Beverly finally married Aunty Angela. Some people might disapprove of our life style but I like it, as do my sisters, my mothers and my aunts.

With the threat of Moniker and Rosemary’s parents removed we expected to find the remainder of our shared tenancy to be peaceful. When the spring term started the bullies returned in a very subdued mood but it was a submission born of a fulminating wish to gain revenge on Melanie.

For the first few weeks of term there was a tense standoff as the bullies searched for an opening to gain leverage. Several times we caught them searching the study looking for evidence of cameras but Melanie and her brother Peter had been doubly careful to remove all trace of the video supervision during the Christmas holidays.

Many times during gym and dance lessons, as well as during the evening when we lounged around the study in our underwear, I caught Rosemary studying the crotch of my school knickers suspiciously. However, by now it had become second nature for me and my companions to always be sure we were never outnumbered when around the bullies. They had ceased their dirty tricks campaign because they just could not be sure if there were still some cameras cleverly hidden. To their further annoyance, Melanie had positioned her Internet chat-cam so that it included the bathroom door in the background whenever she chatted online. The camera was virtually left on all the time as though ‘by accident’ and during the night it documented all visits to the bathroom. Our tights and bras etc were now relatively safe from sabotage.

Finally, the fire-damaged dormitory was refurbished and we bid a relieved good riddance to the bullying pair. The night they finally left there was a party atmosphere throughout our dorm and lots of the junior girls came around to thank us for stifling the bullies efforts during their stay in our dorm.

Melanie’s two holiday houseguests were particularly grateful. The bullies were racist as well as cruel and the Malayan twins were small for their age. They had suffered grievously at the hands of Rosemary and Moniker. Lucinder and the other prefects could not be around 24 hours

“Wee want to thank yooo for being good to uss!” They declared. “Thosse two are nooo good!”

The twins’ grammar was perfect but their accents were still very strong. Lucy gave them both an affectionate hug then shooed them away after reassuring them that the bullies writ would never run whilst she was around. The twins grinned happily and swayed away with all the grace of their oriental origins.

“You could have let them stay a while,” remarked Melanie, “ they only wanted to say thank you.”

“They’re middle school third years Mel. It doesn’t do to let them get too familiar with upper school fifth formers. They should respect us.”

“They can like us as well as respect us,” riposted Bea.

“Well they respect us now. It doesn’t do to get too familiar. Anyway, they only live down the hall. It’s not as though they’re in another house. We’re always here for them.”

That’s what I liked about Lucinda, in truth she was ‘there for them’ and the younger girls knew it. However, boundaries had to be drawn otherwise the younger girls might think our study was ‘open house’ and if they walked in on us while we were ‘de flagrante’ there might be repercussions.

We let the matter drop for we were too preoccupied with the prospects of the forthcoming night. That first night without the bullies, we re-established our relationships. Even Lucinda joined in the fun and ventured just that little bit further. I was tantalised by her increased curiosity as she investigated our bedtime games and explored just that little bit more. Melanie and Beatrice giggled deliciously as Lucy expanded her knowledge. Nevertheless, Lucy still refrained from complete penetration for she remained determined to keep herself technically ‘pure’ until she married Peter, Melanie’s older brother.
The following day Lucy accompanied me on my cross-country run whilst the rest of the girls played hockey. Even though we knew the bullies were engaged on the hockey field, Lucinda chose to accompany me so we were never alone. We chatted as we jogged over The Dumplin for we were not pushing ourselves.

“Can you ever see yourself getting married?” Asked Lucy.

“I dunn’o,” I replied, “ “which girl should I marry, Melanie or Beatrice?”
Lucy smiled and giggled.

“Become a Muslim or a Mormon, then you can marry both.”

I smiled and giggled at this idea.

“It sounds attractive, but what do Muslims or Mormons think of trannies or shemales?”

“Yeah. There’s the snag.”

“We think it’s best if we just live like our mums. Provided any kids we have are happy and secure then it’ll work out. It’s worked out for Beatrice and me as well as our older sisters.”

“But what of the legal stuff. Peter will have to marry me legally if his title is to be carried down.”
“That’s for Peter and you. It’s different for Mel.”

“Not necessarily, Peter says Melanie’s inheritance settlement could be affected if she isn’t married properly.”

“Oh. She never mentioned that to Beatrice or me. Anyway, I think her sexuality matters to her more than any inheritance.”

“Yes I suppose so. Her inheritance of any distaff titles and stuff is dependant on her being legally married.
God! Who’d belong to the titled classes? I sighed.

“Watch it Martie, I look like marrying into the so called titled bunch.”

I wagged my head and grinned but Lucy wasn’t unduly worried by such prospects.

“Come on, race you back to the gate.” She finished.

The Dumplin had been deserted during our run and the idea of any danger had been subconsciously dismissed. . We had reached the top of the Dumplin again and the gate Lucinda spoke of lay at the bottom of the bridle path. It led from the bridle path through a patch of woodlands and into the school grounds. I took up Lucinda’s challenge for I knew I could hold my own against her in cross-country running. Lucinda was a brilliant all round athlete and built for team sports like hockey or la-crosse but I was more slightly built and better suited to distance running. Within minutes, I was well ahead of her as we sped down the bridle path towards the gate. I soon reached the gate well ahead of her so I entered the woods and eased up to a very slow trot. I knew I had the measure of Lucinda and could easily speed up again to take the lead if she wanted to race back all the way to school. What I had not allowed for was an ambush.

As I trotted delicately between some thick shrubs, several masked forms suddenly attacked me.
I let out shriek for help but I was too far ahead of Lucinda. My calls were quickly stifled and I was taken down and secured. A gag was rammed into my mouth then a sack or bag was pulled over my head and I was dragged into the bushes.
I did not even have time to count how many attackers had beset me. What I did realise was that they were obviously determined to establish what lay inside my knickers.

Once constrained I immediately felt sharp nails dragging at my running shorts as I tried to kick and struggle. My efforts were eventually overcome and I realised my struggles were futile. Finally a pair of handcuffs clicked around my wrists and I was helpless. I decided it would be best to try and identify my attackers by sound or any other means.
I heard one of them order another to ‘get the camera’ but I could not recognise her voice. I decided to lie still for a moment to try and get them to lower their guard. My knickers were ripped off then next my running top and bra leaving me totally naked. I heard the camera start to click and the flash silhouetted two of my attackers as they stood in front of me. So far I had not identified any voices because only one assailant had said anything and that was the one holding the bag over my head. If I could just get the other assailants to say anything, I might recognise somebody.

For a moment I stopped all resistance as the camera operator flashed away until I finally had a good idea of the exact location of two vague silhouettes directly in front of me.

Guessing the distance I lashed out with my foot and caught one of the two silhouetted onlookers squarely in the stomach. She let out a pained curse and I recognised the voice. It was Moniker’s mother the barrister.

I was shocked at this discovery but managed to keep my senses as the woman detaining me gave me a vicious blow to the back of my head. I was dazed but not unconscious and I managed to retain lucidity. I pretended I was unconscious and slumped to the ground. This, I hoped would put them off their guard. My ploy worked for the other onlooker cursed again.

“Nora! You didn’t have to hit her that hard.”

I recognised Rosemary’s mother.

‘Shit!’ I thought. ‘These buggers must have prepared this trap carefully and garnished a detailed knowledge of my routine from their bullying daughters.’

“Never mind that get some more photographs.”

At this, I heard Lucinda calling my name and my attackers cursed. Her arrival had foiled any further developments. They panicked.

“Quick! Lets get out of here, we’ve got enough evidence.”

I felt the jailer release my bruised arms and they sped off through the wood as I struggled to spit the gag jammed into my mouth. Eventually my muffled squawks drew Lucinda to me and she found me still struggling to get to my feet and spit out the gag.

“Oh my God! What’s happened?” She squealed as she whipped the sack off my head

“They attacked me!” I finally managed to say as Lucinda dug the gag out of my mouth.

“Who?”

That Barrister bitch, Moniker’s mother and her cronies.

“What!”

“Yes,” I gasped, “her and Rosemary’s mother plus two others I don’t know. They took a pile of photographs!”
Lucinda recovered my torn clothing and cursed.

“The bastards. Here your top’s still OK but you’ll have to put the sack over your bottom half.”

“I can’t get my arms through the loops of my top. These handcuffs wont open.”

Lucinda pulled the top over my shoulders then fixed the sack around my lower half.

“That’ll have to do. Let’s get you back to our study.”

“Aren’t we going to tell Miss Frobisher or even the police?”

Lucinda’s brain was already way ahead of mine. I suppose I had been too stressed out to realise a huge flaw in my attackers tactics and Lucinda explained.

“When I found you, you still had the sack over your head and tits. Had they taken any photographs of your face and whole body?”

“I, - I don’t think so,” I replied, “I was struggling too much in the beginning. They didn’t bring out the camera until they had subdued me. I suppose they didn’t want me to recognise Moniker and Rosemary’s mothers.”

“Exactly, and that means they haven’t got any pictures of your face.”

A slow smile of dawning filtered through my befuddled head.

‘Of course! It was like the naked actress who locked herself out of her flat when she was collecting the early morning milk off the step! The door clicked shut behind her accidentally and she was stranded naked on the step’
The only thing she could find to hide herself was a flowerpot by the door, so she emptied that and stuck it over her head. Several people saw a naked girl seeking help from a police officer but only the police officer realised who he was talking to. The starlet had cleverly retained the secret of her identity and the policeman wasn’t telling. My situation was the same. They hadn’t taken any photos of my head because it was under the sack. The silly buggers had only obtained pictures of a ripe pair of tits, a beautifully rounded feminine pair of hips and a pair of long slender feminine legs with a cock. The cock could have belonged to any she-male. Lucinda had interrupted their plans.

My mood lightened up as Lucinda studied the thicket.

“The background won’t give anything away in their photos. Stay here and I’ll go and get your spare running shorts.

“I’m not staying here. They might come back.”

“Oh OK then, but we’ll have to slip you in via the caretaker’s door behind the boiler room.”

“You check he’s not around then.”

“He wont be. He’s preparing the main hockey pitch for Saturday’s game. It’s the final of the inter-schools trophy.”
Armed with this knowledge, we quickly slipped into the school buildings un-noticed and stole into our study.

“Now to get these bloody handcuffs off. I’ll have to see the caretaker after class. He’s got a hacksaw.”

“You mean I have to sit here till then. What if they come looking for me?”

“Just keep the study door locked. Pretend you’re not in.”

“Oh thanks. And what of Mel and Bea?”

“I’ll speak to them in the changing rooms.”

I sat numbly in an armchair until I heard my friends arrive.

“Are you in there Martie?” They whispered through the door.

“Yes.”

“Let us in.”

I fidgeted awkwardly with the key and let them in. Melanie produced a stiff piece of fencing wire and motioned towards my cuffed wrists.

“See if I can pick the lock.”

Glad of any effort, I presented my wrists and Melanie busied herself behind me. Within seconds the cuffs were off. Melanie had not lost her streetwise skills.

“Shit that was quick!” Gasped Beatrice. “Where did you learn that?”

Melanie just shrugged and smiled enigmatically.

“Never mind where she learned it,” Bea scolded, “just be thankful for her unusual talents.”

“Thank God for that.” I sighed as I dashed to the lavatory and they went to get Lucinda.

“Well that’s the immediate problem solved.” Observed Lucinda “It now remains to see if they realise their big blunder.”

“What’s that?” Asked Beatrice.

Lucinda repeated the actress and the flowerpot story and the other two giggled.

“You should be safe.” Observed Mel.

“Only provided Miss Frobisher keeps her head.” Added Bea.

Lucinda added the most important note though.

“I think they’ll realise their blunder when the see they haven’t got the identity of the owner of the delicious girly hips and cock.”

I preened myself at the compliment.

“Oooh. Do you really think I’m delicious then?”

All my friends smiled and I revelled in their friendship. It was good to have such loyal companions.
Our happiness was not to last long however. The mothers were determined to try their luck and the photos landed on Miss Frobisher’s desk the following Monday. We were called from our class.

“Is this true?” She asked softly though the concern was etched into her strained voice.

“Yes.” I confessed. “They attacked me in the woods on Friday.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“We hoped they would realise they didn’t have an identity.”

Miss Frobisher blinked and re-studied the photographs.

“Do you know; I believe you’re right. I was so shocked I didn’t think to question them.”
Lucinda, ever the calm and collected one, reinforced the facts.

“It’s just some photographs of some poor devil in the woods with a sack over her — or his, head. I would treat them with the contempt they deserve.”

“But she’s a well respected barrister,” protested Miss Frobisher, “if she goes further with this, it could look bad for the school. Who would question her word?”

“If she goes further with this, I will swear on oath that they assaulted me and tried to kidnap me.” I added. “I could even say that they sexually assaulted me.”

“But it’s her word against yours; and she’s a barrister.”

“Yes. A woman who assaults dysfunctional teenagers and photographs them stripped naked. That’s sexual assault for a start!”

“How do you know she was there?”

“She sent you the photos didn’t she?”

“Well, - yes; she did actually,” paused Miss Frobisher thoughtfully, “here’s the letter. She expresses grave concern.”

“Grave concern my foot! She’s trying to blackmail the school; she’s trying to get me expelled. Oh it’s couched up in legal parlance but the bottom line is she’s trying to get at me through the school.”

“Well she lists her concerns and the ethical issues.”

“She’s lust being licentious. There may be ethical issues but that’s up to my study mates to comment upon. There are no legal issues. I’m a girl, legally. As a barrister, she should realise it’s all about law!”

“But her concerns are very real.”

“She’s lawyer. She can only act through the law. Any other avenue like going to the papers about ethics or something puts her in breach of law. That letter does her more damage than us. She’s foist by her own petard. She’s been too keen to put it all down on paper. She’s hung herself. She’s trying to blackmail you and the school.”

Miss Frobisher sat silent for long moments as she digested our arguments.

“I’ll have to take legal advice on this. Leave it with me.”

“If you want legal advice, I can recommend Judge Elizabeth Porter.” I added.

“Who! The law lord?”

“Yes, the very same.”

“My, my Martina, you do move in illustrious circles.”

“She ruled on my case Miss Frobisher. She was the judge who ruled that I could live as a girl until I determined my sexuality in maturity. That is why I am legally recognised as a girl and allowed to live as one.”

“Why yes of course.”

“And that is why neither you or the school have broken any laws.” I finished. “I know exactly where the law stands on my condition, especially about stuff like me being at this school. Lady Elizabeth Porter gave me the complete breakdown and the law has not changed. If you want her private telephone number, I can get it for you from my Aunty Beverly. Judge Porter is very protective of my circumstances, and very sympathetic.”

Miss Frobisher took considerable comfort from my offer.

“Well, I will have to contact the courts and take proper legal advice.”

I shrugged unconcernedly, for I knew I was on safe ground.

“Your own lawyers will have to tell you the same thing. Legally I am to be treated as a girl! That’s what the doctors say and that’s what the court decided. I will be allowed to choose my legal sex when I reach maturity.”

A few days later Miss Frobisher was all smiles. The knowledge that she was deemed to have not broken any law, gave her confidence.
The upshot was that my statement was proved correct and because I was legally still a minor, nothing could be made public. Moniker’s mother was hauled before the bar council and suspended for three years. I felt a huge weight off my shoulders, as did Miss Frobisher for by then I would have left school. I would have reached my maturity of eighteen and the issue would be over.

Despite this successful outcome, Miss Frobisher still felt compelled to get statements from Lucy, Bea and Melanie that they were content to share their private study with me.

This however, only served to strengthen my position for my companions were adamant they wanted me to remain. Consequently, I was allowed to continue living intimately with my companions.
Despite this, other girls gradually learned my secret for Moniker and Rosemary were determined to try and ruin our lives.

By the end of the fifth year, it was common knowledge in the upper school that I had a penis and there were endless propositions from some of the more adventurous girls. It was with considerable relief that we made it to the end of the fifth year without any serious incidents.

In the sixth year, we finally cleared all the hurdles. It could be demonstrated that our adjoining studies were sufficiently isolated from the younger girls to cause no risk, whilst allowing us the luxury of continuing our private intimacies. The biggest incident occurred when Peter, Melanie’s older brother, finally learned of my cock. He was fascinated when Lucinda finally was free to enlighten him during one of their private moments after we had all passed the age of consent.
Peter and Lucinda were getting ready for the hunt ball and Peter was almost slavering at the sight of Lucinda’s beautiful curves under her turquoise satin ball gown. Ever the gentleman however, he struggled with his hormones and behaved with the utmost probity. It was this probity that so attracted Lucinda to him. He sat respectfully on the bed watching Lucinda apply her makeup as they chatted.

“What! You mean Martina’s not a girl?” He gasped incredulously.

“Well. Yes.” Corrected Lucinda. “She’s a girl in her head but she’s still got a boy’s parts.”

“Crickey! You mean she’s got a — you know! But she’s so feminine. I mean I could fancy her if it wasn’t for you.”

“Watchit! Don’t you dare try anything on with her!” Warned Lucinda.

“No. I had no intentions. But she’s just so, - you know, - so feminine, so curvy.”

“And she’s one of my best friends, so don’t you ever go hurting her.”

“What does my sister Melanie think of her?” Pressed Peter.

“We’re all the best of friends and we stick together like glue."

Peter fell silent for a moment for he was aware of his sister’s sexual orientations.

“No. I asked what does Melanie really think of Martina?”

“How d’you mean?”

“You know. You know, - sexually, I mean.”

Lucinda fell silent and that silence betrayed her secrets. Peter gasped.

“They don-. They don’t, - you know, they don’t, - they don’t do it.”

“I can’t say,” replied Lucinda stonewalling like mad.

Slow dawning popped in Peter’s brain like a feeble light bulb.

“They do don’t they. They do!”

Peter was now grinning right across his face.

Lucinda remained doggedly silent but her red face betrayed her.

“Well I’ll be buggered!” Squawked Peter as the truth finally hit him right between the eyes.

“I’m not saying.” Blushed Lucinda.

“You don’t have to my sweet. It’s writ right across your face. Melanie, my little sister be dammed. Well I’ll be buggered! Why the crafty, horny little minx! What about that other girl? What’s her name, - Beatrice? Is Martina humping her?”

“I’m not saying. It’s none of our concern.”

“What d’you mean, ‘none of your concern’. You’ve been living with them for the last six years!”

“Listen darling!” Snapped Lucinda. “I’m still a virgin, and that’s all you have to concern yourself with. What they get up to is between themselves. Now are we going to the hunt ball or not?”

Peter nodded in perplexed silence. He was genuinely in love with Lucinda and to put icing on the cake, Lucinda was deeply in love with him; not to mention her being a stunning beauty. In the car he reached across and gave her an ecstatic hug for he was truly enchanted with her. Furthermore, Peter was the envy of the county for Lucinda’s stunning good looks turned any man’s head. Her returned embrace reassured him for he had genuinely thought that Lucinda might have been turned by his sister Melanie’s sexual mores and whiles.

“Thanks. I love you even more now.”

“And I you. Now drive. We’re late as it is.”

“All the better an entrance you’ll make.”

“It’s rude to be late. Now get a move on!"

The rest of their evening passed without incidence but Lucinda noticed a distinct fricassee of tension between her and Peter She noticed his embraces seemed just that much more possessive.

As they drove home she reassured him with extra attentions.

“Don’t worry, you can trust me. I’ve got to eighteen and I’m still a virgin.”

“I’m sorry love, it’s just that, I mean, sharing your life with a girl with a cock. It must be weird!”

“It’s very interesting actually,” replied Lucinda, “ Martina’s a very sweet girl really and she never makes advances.”

“What? Never?”

“No. It’s your sister that’s the huntress.”

“Yeah. That figures. But you’re quite safe?”

“Safe as the Rock of Gibraltar. Look there’s your mum and dad.”

“They must have stopped off on the way home, they left long before us.”

That night, Peter was stunned to learn that his mother had known of Martina’s ‘little peculiarities’ for years as he and the two women chatted in the kitchen.”

“Does dad know?” He asked his mother.

“He knows about Melanie but he thinks Martina’s also a lesbian.”

“Blimey, what a web we weave and all this has been going on under my nose all these years.”

“Well not under your nose darling. Most of the time you’ve been up at that terribly expensive school.”

“Yeah, but, - but what does dad think?”

“Your father’s more worldly wise than you think. However, what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him. His only disappointment is that he doesn’t think Melanie will ever give him a grand daughter.”

“I’m not sure that’s entirely true,” observed Lucinda, “Melanie’s intimated to me that she might like to have a child by Martina.”

“Bloody hell! Is Martina able to, - you know?” Wondered Peter aloud.

“Yes,” confirmed Lucinda, “once her vasectomy is reversed.”

Peter shook his head, finished his cocoa and went to bed.

“Good gracious!” Gasped Countess Wemite once her son Peter had retired to bed. Now she had Lucinda alone, she could pump her a lot further in a real girl-to-girl talk. “I didn’t realise that those sort of precautions had been taken.”

“It was best for everybody. Melanie couldn’t leave Martina alone, once she discovered the truth.”

“Who’s idea was the vasectomy?”

“Aunty Beverly’s mostly. Though apparently everybody agreed including Doctor Sandie.”

“Well, I suppose it was for the best. I’m secretly glad that my Melanie is attracted to her. At least there’re prospects of grandchildren and I know her father would dearly love some grandchildren by Mel. To tell the truth, once I realised that Melanie was a les, - a lesbian I thought there was no hope. I never realised she had maternal instincts.”

“Melanie’s more feminine than you think. She besotted by Martina.”

“Countess Wemite felt a fricassee of delight tingle through her body. She refilled her mug with more chocolate as an indicator that she wished to chat much more. It was another hour before she finally escorted Lucinda to one of the guest rooms next to her own master bedroom. Peter slept in the opposite wing at the far end of the house. Lucinda smiled as she learned the new arrangements and she turned to the Countess.

“There’s no need to chaperone me. Peter knows full well that I’m a virgin until the bridal night.”

“Brave girl! And very pleased I am to hear it.” Replied the Countess as Lucinda settled into the guest room.

The next day, Lucinda returned to school and Peter returned to college. They would see little of each other until the summer as
Exams loomed. Back at school Melanie pumped her friend.

“So mummy knows about Martina!”

“Yes. Your mother’s got a knack of dragging stuff out of people.”

“Yeah. Don’t I know it! You should have been there the night I confessed my sexuality.”

“Gosh. Was she angry?” I asked.

“No,” replied Mel. She surprised me really. I think she already knew.”

“Your mum’s a canny old cookie.” Observed Beatrice.

“You bet,” agreed Lucinda. “She took the stuff about Martina with remarkable aplomb.”

“Yeah! It seems anything goes, as long as it doesn’t scare the horses.” Giggled Melanie as we stripped for bed.

Although we were split between two studies opposite each other across the dormitory landing, we often ended up all four squeezed onto two mattresses, laid out on the floor. Fortunately, sixth formers’ studies were located on the other side of the luggage rooms and they enjoyed lots of privacy from the younger girls. It was mainly to provide quiet for studying but it also served for total privacy. Short of one of the younger girls wanting to come in during the middle of the night, the sixth formers enjoyed total seclusion. It was a rare event for a junior girl to go crying to the prefects. She would never have lived it down. Besides that, in our dormitory, there was very little cause to frighten the younger girls because Lucinda had already nailed down all types of bullying. She had been voted overwhelmingly head girl by the other students and she had been unanimously approved by all the staff including Miss Frobisher. We remembered the sixth form assembly that first day of our term when Miss Frobisher confirmed Lucinda’s election.

Miss Frobisher had spoken of Lucinda’s early previous election as games captain and confirmed her deep satisfaction that all the students had happily elected her as head girl. Lucinda had it all, beauty, good-looks, popularity, intelligence and athleticism. She used these qualities to run the student caucus as a natural and much loved leader. How she had changed from the fat, shy little eleven-year-old who had arrived lonely and fearful on that day that seemed like light years ago. Because of her having virtually eliminated bullying in the school, her reign as head girl brought peace and progress to the school and happiness for the pupils. It meant that children could achieve their full potential. Lucinda, Melanie, Beatrice and I all qualified for uni and our grades enabled us to choose our colleges.

Naturally, we chose London, for the big city offered us all the support we needed to indulge our alternative life styles. Additionally, Lucinda was able to live close to her beloved Peter who had gained a commission in the Household Division.
London proved to be an idyllic destination for there we could be free.