Previously…

I was up close behind some bigger girls as they entered the dining room and it wasn’t until I had taken several steps in that I saw that, rather than lots of individual tables, now there were four rows of them and all the girls were finding their way over and sitting down. I felt like a deer in headlights as nearly all the girls were seated. I had just turned around to bolt out the door and do my famous disappearing trick when someone grabbed my arm. Looking around, it was another lady smiling down at me.

‘Not sure where to go? Find an empty seat somewhere, there’s no ceremony here. New girls always have problems at first; you’ll soon get the hang of it.’

‘Thank you, Miss,’ I said with a slight tremble in my false posh voice.

‘Run along then, dear.’ she said.

I turned to my left and sat in the nearest seat between two girls about my age or younger. In front of me on the table, there was a soup plate on top and others underneath. With knives forks and spoons either side of the plates, silver by the look of them. They certainly didn’t go hungry here and Solly Worth would love this place; it was a fences dream!

One of the girls was speaking to someone across the table and the other one was spinning a spoon and looking a bit bored.

‘Hello,’ said the spoon spinner, glancing up and smiling, ‘not seen you here before, are you new like us?’

I looked at the girl. She was pleasant enough and was smiling.

‘Yes, I arrived yesterday, a bit late, ’coz I have only just got back from New York.’

‘Soooooper! I love New York. Did you have a fab time?’

‘Yes, it was great–erm–super.’

‘Did you go with your parents?’

I gulped for some reason, nearly starting to blub like a girl, but I got myself together and replied with the first thing that came into my head.

‘No, grandparents–it was a treat.’

‘Super. We must chat about it after. Did you go up the Empire State––?’

There was a clap of hands and a lady on the top table stood up; she had the look of a headmistress–so this was Amelia Molestrangler M.A. (Oxon), I bet she starched her knickers.

‘Girls–prayers.’

Looking around I could see that the others including my new ‘friend’ had closed their eyes and bowed their heads; I did the same–when in Rome…

‘For what we are about to receive may the Lord make us truly thankful. Amen. O Lord, please protect and look after the poor child of Sharon Tranter. His name is Brian. He lost his mother in tragic circumstances not three miles from here. He is missing and Lord, we ask that you protect him and keep him safe from harm–Amen.’

I kept my eyes closed and didn’t look up. There was silence around the room for a moment and all I could hear was the sound of my tears falling on the soup plate in front of me––

And now the story continues…

There was the immediate noise of hundreds of starving girls as they started eating, drinking and being jolly merry. I was pleased, as the racket distracted possible attention from how upset I was.

I was looking down, my long hair for once, not a nuisance as it curtained my face as I carried on looking down as I tried to get my emotions back under control.

I looked up as I was tapped on the arm.

‘So, you liked New York?’ said the chatty girl, continuing the conversation as if they’re hadn’t been an interruption, ‘I do to…oh, you’re crying, why?’

‘Oh, erm, it was just…just that I was sad about that woman and boy who has gone missing?’

‘Gosh, you are sensitive. Yes rotten shame that. I bet the boy is terribly upset, I know I would be if I lost Mummy–Daddy too–he’s a brick. Look, wipe your face. Where’s your hankie?’

‘U…upstairs in the dormitory.’ I sniffed.

‘Oh, use mine, it’s clean and I have heaps of the stupid things upstairs; prezzies from grandma–every year, knickers, stockings, socks and hankies. I would much rather have a Beatles LP, wouldn’t you and isn’t that Paul to die for?’

‘Y—yes, I suppose.’

Someone tapped my shoulder and I nearly jumped out of my skin. I looked up and behind me and there was a woman looking down at me with a concerned look on her face.

‘Are you alright dear? You look a bit upset.

She was wearing a teacher’s gown–old fashioned but it was that type of school.

‘Y— ¬yes, m—miss.’

‘You look a bit peaky,’ she felt my rather damp forehead, ‘mmm, a bit hot. After dinner, pop up and see matron. What’s your name? I don’t think that I have seen you about.’

‘Lu—Lucinda Davenport.’ I replied.

She smiled.

‘Well, Lu ¬—Lucinda, tell matron that you’re excused prep tonight and get a chit for your form mistress to that effect. If you have any sort of temperature, we don’t want you breathing germs over everyone, do we?’

‘Yes, Miss...I mean no miss,’ I sniffed, hamming it up a bit and adding to the impression that I might be going down with something.

The teacher–I had just twigged that they were called mistresses in posh schools like this–smiled again and then walked on, her heels noisy on the parquet flooring as she stopped and spoke to several girls.

‘She’s nice, isn’t she, Luce?’ said the girl.

‘Eh what: yes she is?’ I said, turning back to my new uninvited friend. ‘Who is she?’

‘Miss Packworthy, head of the second year. She can be frightfully strict, but she’s a bit like a hard boiled sweets you get from the tuck shop with a soft centre and her bark is worse than her bite.’

‘What’s your name?’ I asked, a bit confused with her somehow mixing sweets and dogs. We were in the pause between the soup being whipped away and the next whatever that was.

‘Tanya, well, don’t laugh but it’s really Titania, you know from William Shakespeare’s A Midsummer Night's Dream? I think my parents have a weird idea about names. My sister Helena is the fourth year, she told me all about the mistreses and everyone else here. She’s all right, for a sister, but a bit bossy sometimes.’

All talk ceased as our dinner arrived.

I haven’t explained, but it appears that pupils took turns serving the food, each year taking the job on and changing weekly, I supposed that it was the closest that they would get to serfdom in their pampered lives. The kids came in with lots of plates containing bangers and mash with onion gravy. Others carried heaped plates of bread and butter. And here was I thinking that they would be eating posh nosh!

Anyway, as I said, the dinners were served by some kids who didn’t seem to like the chore too much. My mouth watered just looking at it steaming mound in front of me. I wasn’t a well brought up gel and would have jumped in and gorged myself in a trice if I wasn’t supposed to be one of the elite, stinking rich, plum in the the mouth sort that came here–not that I have any sort of chip on my shoulder, of course. So I just took a grip on myself and tried not to make a little piggy of myself.

Tanya managed to do a neat trick; she could talk continuously and somehow manage to finish her meal at the same time. Me? Well I was so hungry I must admit that half of what she had to say washed over me. As I wasn’t ‘well’ I was not expected to hold up a conversation and I sniffed and coughed delicately at times just to reinforce the fact that I was coming down with something.

I did take some of what she said in, but it wasn’t much, as she was more interested in the dresses she had bought in the hols and weren’t the Hollies a great group? Not as good as The Beatles or Freddie and the Dreamers, but still, they are really with it…

On she went and I just ate and grunted my agreement or nodded when required. The place was so noisy with the combined rabbiting of all those girls; I had real fear for my hearing. Why do girls talk so much? We men are strong and silent types and only speak when absolutely necessary.

Dinner was consumed and pudding was jam rolly-polly with thin yellow custard. I prefer thick custard, but I wasn’t about to complain to the cook and just ate it up like a good little girl–well boy who looked like a girl, anyway.

Tanya was saying something.

‘What?’ I said, ‘I mean, pardon?’

‘I said I wish that I was as pretty as you. I am an ugly duckling. Mummy says it’s just puppy fat, but what does she know.’

‘I’m not pretty,’ I said forcibly, ‘but you are.’

‘Thanks for being nice, but I know what I look like. I have to stare at my face in the mirror. I bet when you get older, all the boys will be after you.’

‘Rubbish,’ I replied, but feeling strangely happy with what she was saying and then got her off the subject swiftly as I didn’t want to even think about being considered pretty. ‘So, erm, d’you like The Rolling Stones?’

‘They’re all right, I s’pose; Mummy adores Mick Jagger and whenever they come on the box she stops whatever she’s doing to watch them. I asked if she liked their songs, but she said she preferred watching them as she could see Mick’s willie and goolies flopping up and down inside his trousers.’

‘His what?’ I asked, not believing my ears.

‘Oh, you must know, Luce,’ Tanya replied; ‘his boy-bits–you know the dangly things boys have down there,’ she winked knowingly, ‘instead of a front bottom like we girls have. I’ve got an elder brother and I’ve seen his. Have you ever seen a boy’s goolies and willie, Luce?’

~ §~

Soon, dinner was finished and I got up with Titty-Tanya or whatever she called herself. She was a nice girl, but a bit dim and to tell you the truth, I just wanted to get away and up to my room without any more fuss.

‘So, are you going to the San?’ asked Tanya as we got up and left the hall with the other girls.

‘San?’

‘Yes, silly; the Sanatorium where Matron gives you ghastly concoctions for whatever is wrong with you.’

‘I might––’

‘–You better had or Miss Packworthy will have your guts for garters.’

‘All right, I’ll go.’ I said coughing delicately behind my hand and hopefully looking as if I was suffering in silence. ‘I’ll see you later.’

‘What dorm are you in?’

I coughed more loudly and pretended to sneeze.

‘Sorry, better dash, see you later.’

I hurried off down the corridor. I had no idea where Matron and her lotions and potions were, but anything to get away from Tanya and her annoying questions.

By some fluke, I was heading in the right direction and it soon became apparent that the girls had disappeared. I assumed that they were doing their prep–whatever that was. Anyway, I walked straight past the Sanatorium and then around a few corners until I found the stairs where I needed to go to get up to my own room. The place was as quite as a church and I thanked my lucky stars that I didn’t meet anyone as I climbed the now familiar stairs that led to my room.

Mind you, this was a golden opportunity to have a look in another dormitory to see if there was anything that I might find useful. I didn’t really feel guilty about rummaging through drawers and closets. These girls had it all and I was into wealth distribution in a big way. I found a torch and that was a nice useful item. I made sure it worked before pinching it and luckily it was nice and bright.

Other items I acquired were a hair brush and a few more pairs of knickers, a girl–I mean boy–can’t have enough knickers…I stopped at that thought and my giggle sounded quite realistic. I found some hair ribbons and for some reason on an impulse, I took a selection including red, blue (after all I was a boy) and pink, together with several hair clips; one pair having some rather pretty butterflies on them. A lot of the girls did the Alice thing and it kept their hair back using ribbons and I thought that they might help me to blend in. I was only being practical and I was not going all girlish!

Then over in one corner I saw what looked suspiciously like a clothes basket. Not being one to miss an opportunity, I went over and lifted the lid of the wicker basket and there were various items of clothing. I searched through, ignoring the yucky knickers–I do have standards–and found a couple of blouses and skirts that looked about my size, a nice, I mean functional cream cardigan, a few slips and a pink dressing gown–pink isn’t my colour really but I was strangely drawn to it as I already had a few items of this obviously girlish colour and anyway it would be useful to have on my nocturnal expeditions and would add to my impersonation of a giddy, jolly-hockeysticks schoolgirl.

I was nearly done and finally, I struck lucky in the last drawer that I tried. There was a map of the school with all the classrooms and other places in the building including the kitchen and offices. This was a really great find because now I would be able to find my way around without difficulty.

I had been long enough and with a final check to make sure that everything–on the surface anyway–looked the same as when I went in, I left the dorm, carrying my plunder and made my way swiftly along the corridor and through the door that led upstairs to my room.

I was only just in time as when I closed the door leading up to my landing, I could hear another door open behind me and the sound of steps coming my way!

I took off my shoes, so my feet weren’t noisy and scampered up the stairs as quietly as I could and ran to my door, opening it swiftly; I shut it behind me and locked it, then breathed a huge sigh of relief as I sank down on the bed. I held my breath for a moment just in case the mysterious feet had followed me, but all was quiet again.

That could have been awkward! How could I have explained being in a dorm and rummaging through girls’ drawers––?

‘Ooh, I’m just the maid miss, cleaning up after those girls, Lord luv a duck! ’ followed by a curtsy, of course. Nah, somehow I think it wouldn’t have worked!

Taking off my shoes, I lay down on the bed with my head on the pillow and had a bit of a think.

There were a few times when I had been close to being caught out, but I had managed to get out of trouble by the skin of my teeth. I couldn’t expect to get away with my deception forever, but as long as I could, I would stay at the school and make the most of things.

A couple of weeks should do it, I reckoned. Then the search for me would have died down and I could go on my merry way. Where that way was, I wasn’t sure, but I knew I was on borrowed time here and I would have to be very careful in future.

That got me thinking about the school and the people who lived here. I must admit, from what I had seen, they didn’t seem a bad bunch. Tanya went on a bit, but her heart was in the right place. I had seen no sign of bullying or lack of respect for the mistresses. This was in stark contrast to my former school where bullying was rife and the mistresses didn’t know or maybe even care about what was going on under their very noses.

I smiled as I remembered what Miss Packworthy had said. She really seemed to care about how I was feeling. We could have done with a dozen like her at my old school. Maybe then I wouldn’t have needed to stay away from the place so much and or have Percy Pointer on my tail all the time.

I got up and went to the table. The books that I had ‘borrowed’ were in there. I couldn’t do much for a while. It was still light–just and the kids wouldn’t be going to bed just yet. I had plans for later, but for now I would take it easy and have a read and wait for things to die down. I picked up one of the books and went back over to the bed and lay down.

Looking at the book I could see that it was called Excitements at the Chalet School. Shrugging, I opened it up and started to read.

It was a story about a school called The Chalet School–obviously. A boarding school in Switzerland of all places full of young gels and understanding mistresses–a sort of bad girl makes good and becomes the mistress’s pet type book. A bit like this place, maybe–with hills and yodelling thrown in for good measure. Still it kept me going for a bit until the light faded and I couldn’t read any more. The windows had no curtains and although the electric light worked and I had a torch, I just couldn’t take the chance of some busybody seeing a light coming from the–supposedly empty–room.

Eventually, I could hear noises from down below as the girls finally made their way up the wooden stairs to Bedfordshire and got ready for bed. I just hoped that they all went to bed early like good little girls so that I could do a bit of a reconnaissance.

I thought about things for a while and decided to get in character, so I got undressed and put on the long cotton nightdress. If I was caught out of bed–horror of horrors–I would pretend that I was going to the toilet–I’m sure I’d heard them calling it “the loo” or “the lav”–or something. Fully dressed wasn’t an option creeping along darkened corridors in the middle of the night.

It felt strange wearing a nightdress rather than pyjamas and a bit draughty to say the least, but it wasn’t unpleasant, quite the contrary, so I just got into bed picked up my book and torch, went under the covers and read a bit more about The Chalet School and all about Joey Bettany and her chums.

~ §~

I don’t remember switching off the torch and I woke up in the dark, my head still under the covers with my book; I must have been quite tired. I yawned and sat up. It was still very dark and I wondered what time it was. I would have to ‘borrow’ a watch from someone. Then a few seconds, almost on cue, I heard the distant sound of the clock in the tower chime the hour. It was two o’clock.

‘Mmm, perfect.’ I thought.

My dear old dad, in one of his more chatty moods, told me that the best time for a bit of burglary is from about one to four AM when everyone was normally deeply asleep. Well, if they weren’t asleep now they would never be.

I slipped out of bed, put on my pink dressing gown and pink fluffy slippers–if my dad could see me now–put my hair in a pony tail using an elastic band, picked up my torch and trusty swag-bag and I was ready. Then I stopped, remembering the map, I picked it up and put it in my dressing gown pocket.

I went to the door and unlocked it silently, opened it and poked my head around. All clear, but very dark with just a faint moonlit glow coming from the window down the corridor.

Slipping out, I made my way along the corridor and reached the staircase. I stopped for moment, my ears straining for any sounds–nothing–so I continued down the stairs and opened the door at the bottom, just a crack.

There was light on the other side from a single bulb, half way down but nothing more. It was probably left on in case the girls needed to use the lavatory or something. Once again I stopped and held my breath as I listened for any sounds. Apart from someone snoring rather loudly in one of the dorms, it was all quiet on the western front.

I closed the door quietly and then made my way silently in my pink slippers down to the end and continued downstairs, stopping occasionally to have a listen. Eventually I was on the ground floor and heading towards the kitchens according to my map. Here and there were dotted ceiling lights that made the place feel a bit eerie as there were plenty of shadows out of the light where rampant mistresses might be lurking in wait for me. But this school didn’t seem to be into high security and for that I was grateful.

The kitchens were at the far end of the school and I soon found them. I pushed the swing doors open and there I was. I could smell greens and wrinkled my nose. I hated greens and had a theory that they are cooked for at least three days before being served up.

There were a couple of large refrigerators in the corner and I crept over and opened one. The light came on, sending a glow across the kitchen. I only hoped that some sort phantom cook wouldn’t pop up from somewhere with a dirty great meat cleaver–dripping with blood, natch. You may have noticed that I have a rather vivid imagination.

Anyway, there were meat pies, sausage rolls, sliced meat in dishes, a trifle and all sorts of goodies.

My idea was to take a few bits and pieces and take them back to my room. Then I wouldn’t need to use go down for meals so much, if at all. Clever gir–boy, aren’t I? I took one of the pies and three of the sausage rolls. I was tempted by the trifle, but wouldn’t trifle with it.

Mind you, there were several pints of milk too, so as I needed healthy teeth and bones, I snaffled a pint and put it in my bag with the other food. I went quickly and opened several doors and finding the pantry, I appropriated two packets of biscuits, some apples and oranges and a banana because, after all, fruit is good for you.

With a nearly full bag and as I didn’t want to stretch my luck, I left the kitchen and made my way back to my room.

The dim light was okay to see by, so I didn’t need my torch and that was good. I passed a door and glanced at the name plate. It said ‘Office’.

After a moment I decided that I could have a quick peak, as offices sometimes have money laying carelessly in closed drawers for anyone to come in and take.

I opened the door–it wasn’t locked–and entered.

I marvelled at the fact that they didn’t appear to be doing anything at all about stopping people like me from getting in and plundering the place. My dad would be salivating over the opportunities here and probably weeping with joy–emotional man, my dad.

Anyway, I was in the office and the lights were all out. I used my trusty torch and the place was then bathed in light. There were two desks, one with a typewriter on it. Papers were on the desks in trays and there were several filing cabinets dotted around the room. Over in the corner was another door and on the door it said ‘Head Mistress’.

My heart sort of flipped at seeing the sign for some reason. Anyway, I didn’t have time for wool gathering, so I had a look through some drawers and the filing cabinets and was more than a bit peeved that no money was evident.

One filing cabinet I hadn’t tried was over in the corner next to the dreaded head mistresses door. I went over and looked at the label. It said ‘Pupil records’.

I opened the cabinet. It was a bit squeaky and I stopped for a moment and listened. I do wish people would use oil or something on these runners.

As I heard no sound I had a peek inside. There were tabbed sections, A to Z. I picked up one of the records and written on the sheet was Lorna Ainsworth and it had all sorts of details like full name, address, age, doctors, parents, contact details and a number of other things like academic records.

At the front were some unused sheets and I wondered…could I?

After pondering for a moment, I took Lorna’s sheet and a few of the unused ones and stuck them in my bag and then as quietly as possible, I shut the drawer, wincing at the screeching noise and hoping that there was not anyone sleepwalking tonight.

I didn’t have any more time to think and I was just about to leave when I glanced at the head mistresses door. Should I?

I did.

I went over, half expecting the door to be locked but it wasn’t. ‘What is it with these people,’ I wondered as I went in the room and shut the door quietly behind me.

The torch was quite powerful and I swept the room with its strong beam. I suppose I thought that it would be like the head masters room at my old school; a place that I was intimately acquainted with. With the desk and cane lying along the front, just to intimidate the poor kids quavering in their shoes; pictures of long gone headmasters lining the walls like wanted posters adding to the gloom and lack of compassion. A functional room without any frills, without a doubt. A bit like our head, a plain man, rather short in stature but big with ideas as to how his school should be run–with a rod of iron. He gave sadists a bad name. It was a pity that the cane only appeared to be used on those who were the least offensive, while those who bullied seemed to get preferential treatment. There was a man who only smiled when he knew that he was going to inflict corporal punishment.

This room was different though. It was a study with wood panelled walls, a long comfortable sofa in the corner; a mahogany desk dominating the room with of all things, flowers on it and a comfortable leather and wood office chair behind the desk. The floor was thickly carpeted and my slippered feet sank slightly into the deep pile. There was a big fireplace over to my left and to the right were French doors looking out, I think, onto the lawns outside.

A nice room, a comfortable room, a room where people would be welcomed and not, hopefully, too frightened to go into. Oh there were probably naughty girls but I wouldn’t mind betting at that point that the punishment would be fair and not too physical. A hundred lines rather than a dozen lashes?

I went over and sat in the office chair; then I went over to the sofa and sat on that. It was as comfortable as it looked. I could have rifled through the drawers, but something stopped me–guilt? No, not me, I was beyond all that; no it was because I didn’t really have time.

I stood up again and the torch beam reflected on a long floor length mirror over in the corner. I wondered why it was there. I couldn’t think that Amelia Molstrangler was a vain person. I shrugged and walked over to the mirror and caught my breath as I saw my reflection.

Looking at my face and hair up in a rather high ponytail, wearing an obviously girl’s dressing gown with a long nightdress peaking out beneath; together with the slippers–a shocking pink in colour–I felt a bit strange, but looked every inch the girl I was pretending to be. It felt right somehow. As if these clothes and persona was the me I was all along. I felt tears sting my eyes as I shook my head angrily, trying to chase those bazaar thoughts out of my head.

I was a boy, for goodness sake, and proud of it. I had only been here for five minutes and I was thinking like a girl–it must be something in the water. I didn’t know how long I could stay here before I was beyond saving. What would my mum and dad think, looking at me now, dressed as a girl and snivelling like one too!

I tore my eyes away from the disquieting reflection of the false me and moved towards the door, not wanting to think about things and wanting to get back to my room–sharpish…

Then there was a noise–

Coming from outside in the office––

I searched around desperately and with my bag of goodies, dived behind the sofa like some sort of Anita Lonsbrough, switching my torch off as I went.

I was wedged between the wall and the back of the sofa. It was a good job that I wasn’t any bigger as I would never have made it.

Just then the door opened and the main light was switched on, making me blink. There were muffled footsteps crossing the carpet and then a creak as somebody sat down, I think at the desk. Then more footsteps from outside coming this way–

‘Headmistress, we will have to get them out quickly.’

‘I know Miss Smithers, I shall ring 999 now.’

There was a slight tinkling sound as the receiver was lifted and I could hear her dial 999.

I was terrified. What had given me away? Why call the police? How was I going to get myself out of this––?

To Be Continued...

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Please leave comments…thanks! ~Sue

My thanks go to the brilliant and lovely Gabi for editing, help with the plot-lines and pulling the story into shape.