Previously…

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––?

And now the story continues…

There was a pause while Miss Molstrangler waited for someone answer her call. I was trying not to breathe too hard but to myself sounded rather like an asthmatic sheep.

Dad always said that when it looked like you were about to be nabbed, get the h**l out of it. Easy for him to say, he wasn’t stuck behind a sofa with two rampant women not ten feet away, with me just dressed in a nightdress and pink slippers. I had a vision then of my dad in a nightdress and pink slippers and nearly giggled–I held my hand over my mouth, noting in passing that I was getting very giggly in my old age–

‘Hello? Oh ambulance please. Yes it’s St Helen’s School For Gels here…Amelia Molestrangler, I’m the headmistress…yes, one of our gels has been hurt, we are worried about head and neck injuries…yes she’s conscious but in pain…Yes…all right…good…yes that’s the right address and phone number, but please be quick…thank you.’

I heard her replace the receiver.

‘They’ll be here in a few minutes. Would you go down and show them where to go? I’ll ring Alicia’s parents. I don’t know what they’ll say.’

‘Well, headmistress, what was she doing on that roof at this time of night or at any time, for that matter?’

‘I shall question her when I can,’ she sighed, ‘silly little girl, always up to mischief, I wish her parents weren’t going through that messy and very public divorce. We’ve tried to shelter her from it, but what can we do when it’s in the papers every day and she has access to them in the school library? It’s all a cry for attention, I’m sure–look, you go down and I’ll speak her parents–well her father anyway, God knows where Lady Constance is; abroad again–probably?’

‘I’ll go now,’

‘I’ll be down in a minute,’

‘Very well, headmistress,’

I heard the sound of a door closing and then a tinkle and some dialling.

‘Hello? Please may I speak to Lord Wentworth?’

‘It’s St Helen’s School–yes it is urgent–thank you,’

There was a drumming sound of her fingers beating a tattoo on the desk for about a minute.

‘Hello, Lord Wentworth? Amelia Molestrangler here, I am sorry to get you out of bed, but I regret to inform you that Alicia has had an accident… yes…if I can explain; she had a fall and has hurt her head and possibly her neck. An ambulance has been called and should be here momentarily…she will be going to County General…yes, they do have private wards…we don’t know why she f…yes, I realise that we are in charge of her but…look, will you be going to the hospital? Yes she is conscious…we don’t know the extent…very well, I will ring you as soon as we have more news. Goodbye, your Lordship.’

She slammed the phone down on the cradle, making me jump a bit.

‘Damn the stupid man!’ she said and then–a few seconds later–I heard the door slam closed and the sound of her retreating footsteps.

I waited for a moment and heard nothing and so left my hiding place and crept over to the door, it was time for me to get to safety.

Quietly, I opened the door and peeked out–all clear. Making my way as silently as possible with a bag that was clanking slightly with all the goodies within; I crossed the office and opened that door. Poking my head out carefully, I saw the corridor was deserted. In moments I was scuttling down it and up the stairs back in my room. I sank down on the bed gasping. Any more of this and my hair would turn grey!

~ §~

I put my ill-gotten gains on a shelf and then took my dressing gown and slippers off. Then I let my hair down by removing the lacky band and gave my hair a brush before slipping under the covers again. The bed had got cold and I wondered if I might nab a hot water bottle from somewhere, although a kettle of hot water might pose a bit of a problem.

I heard the distant sound of bells jangling.

‘That must have been the ambulance,’ I thought.

I wondered about Alicia; by the sound of it, she was having a pretty rotten time. There was I thinking that I was the only person here that had any problems and the toffee nosed, upper crust, privileged, silver-spoon-in-the-mouth types here had it all; when this girl had obviously been through the mangle too.

I hoped that she was all right and that her father at least would make the effort to go and see her in hospital.

As I lay there in the dark I wondered what I was doing there. This place wasn’t for me. It was full of people who were nothing like me. They didn’t steal things. They hadn’t had to make decisions about their lives. I was a boy who dressed like a girl to fit in and not be noticed. What was I doing?

On the other hand––

There was that girl, Alicia; it seemed like she had problems too. How many other girls here had things going on that they weren’t happy with? Did some of them stay awake at night worrying as I had done ever since my mum had died? Why would any mum or dad for that matter, send their kids away to school, didn’t they love them? Mum loved me, I know that she did, even after she started drinking and mixing the drink with the drugs, I knew that she loved me. She wouldn’t have sent me away if she could afford it would she?

But mums and dads want the best for their kids, or they should do anyway. Maybe the best thing for some people is for them to send their kids away to school, so that they had the best education that money could buy. Comparing this place to my old school was like comparing chalk and cheese. If I had children and money I would want the best for them and might consider sending them to a school like this, wouldn’t I?

On the other hand––

I sighed, I was tired and my mind was going around in circles. Yawning, I snuggled further under the covers and closed my eyes.

~ §~

The sound of the bell in the clock tower wakened me. Subconsciously I counted the number of dongs, it was 7 o’clock. I yawned and stretched, then, after a few seconds of remembering where I was, what I was and why I wasn’t wearing pyjamas, it all came back. I wondered as I got up and stretched again whether that girl, what was her name, oh yes Alicia, was all right. For some reason, I had to know, but first things first.

I put on my dressing gown and slippers, unlocked the door and peeped out; it paid to be cautious–as dad always used to say–mind you, it didn’t always work for him.

As the coast was clear, I picked up my wash things and went down the corridor to the washroom-come-lavatory. It wasn’t that warm, so I did my business as fast as I could and then returned to my room.

I could hear some stirring type noises coming from down below and it looked like the young ladies were beginning to wake up. A quick look at timetable showed that breakfast was at eight. I wanted to go down to breakfast as bacon and eggs sounded quite nice, but I didn’t think that I should as the more I was seen, the more chance of awkward questions being asked.

Anyway, I did have some supplies due to my raid last night and I would have to make do with that for the moment. I drank some milk, had a meat pie and sausage roll followed by an apple–an apple a day keeps the doctor away.

As I finished my breakfast in bed, I heard a rush of feet coming from below.

‘Noisy neighbours,’ I mumbled to myself, as I carried on reading the strangely compelling Chalet School story.

I wasn’t too sure what I was going to do when everything had quietened down. Somehow, I would have to find out what had happened to Alicia. All was quiet now as the kids and presumably the staff, were feeding their collective faces.

Then I had an idea.

I knew that below this room was one of the bedrooms–I mean dormitories. The floorboards in this room had been repaired at some time and in a few places there were small sections of floorboards. If I could prise up one of the boards I might be able to make a small hole in the plaster and then I might be able to hear what was being said. Someone surely would say something about Alicia if I put my shell like ear near the floor and when I didn’t need to eavesdrop, I could replace the floorboard.

Clever aren’t I?

I had a search around in a couple of other rooms to find something to use to prise a floorboard and struck lucky when I found an old rusty screwdriver amongst some tools in a wooden chest. I returned to my room quickly and found a good place to try: it was over in a corner where the old central heating pipes went down through the floor. It looked like an inspection point of some sort and the board wasn’t nailed down. After prising the foot long section of board out, there beneath was what I think they call a lath and plaster ceiling. There was a chance that I might make a mess and even horror of horrors, the ceiling might fall down so I had to be very careful. I pushed the screwdriver gently through a gap in the lathe and twisted it. The ceiling wasn’t very thick and I was soon through.

I gently withdrew the screwdriver and could see a very small hole with light coming up from below. It was by the wall, so I hoped that it wouldn’t be noticed. Time would tell though. While waiting for some action and the sound of tramping feet, I decided to get dressed and for some reason, put on my school uniform.

I didn’t take long to dress and realised that I would somehow have to do some washing or “borrow” another blouse as this one was getting grubby. As a boy I used to wear shirts at least twice before getting them washed, but now, as a sort of girl, I was picking up the cleaner habits of actually bothering to change on a more regular basis. This place and all this femininity was getting to me–I would be washing my hair with conditioner next.

As I brushed my hair, making it all silky, I pictured myself going to the doctors.

‘Doctor, I have a dose of the girlies, can I have a blue pill or something to make it go away?’

I smiled and giggled at my reflection in the dirty mirror and then stopped smiling as the reflection was too real to be taken as a joke. I looked more like a girl now than ever. It was as if I was growing into one. Large eyes, naturally arched eyebrows, thin face; lips that were fuller than I wanted and a small slightly turned up nose. This was me as I have always been, but dressed like this with my girlish hair, there was little sign of a boy now.

As a boy, I had sometimes been mistaken for a girl. Maybe I should have had my hair cut short, but I always liked long hair and pop stars wear their hair longer, so why can’t I?

I turned away from the mirror, dismissing my dark thoughts and sat on the bed reading my Chalet School story and waiting for the girls to come back for breakfast before going to lessons. I got quite engrossed in the book where the girls in Inter V were trying to put on a pantomime show–

Suddenly I heard the sounds of stampeding buffalo–no, it was the girls coming back. I put the book down and went over to the corner where the board was up and got down on my knees. I couldn’t see anything; the hole was quite small, but I could hear the conversations quite clearly, from down below.

‘…Katie, did you finish that essay for Miss Priestley? Can I borrow it? I haven’t finished mine I’ll be in trouble if I don’t.’

‘…I had some red bits in my egg this morning, it wasn’t yuckie blood was it? I don’t want to eat another egg, ever!’

‘…Sue, can I borrow a cardi, mine’s got paint on it?’

‘Wasn’t it just awful about Alicia? I’m glad that it isn’t too bad. She’s in the san, isn’t she? Lucky devil, getting off all those lessons cos of a bump on the head. Maybe I should throw myself off the sun room roof; anything rather than maths––’

‘Don’t be unkind Tam, she’s having a rotten time of it, what with her parents and everything.’

More sounds of stampeding buffalo and then after a minute, all was quiet.

I was glad that Alicia wasn’t too badly hurt and I wondered how she was feeling. I shrugged and went back over to the bed. I was just about to sit down, when I heard the distant sound of a door opening and multiple steps coming along the corridor towards my room.

I nipped over to the door and made sure that it was locked and then just stood there, listening to the steps coming ever nearer.

Two people…

‘Well,’ said the male voice, ‘what room is it in?’

‘At the end on the right,’ said another younger male voice.

‘Why she had to use her bed as a trampoline, I’ll never know. Still, she got a hundred lines and her parents will have to pay for the damage. Maybe she’ll think again before doing something so daft.’

‘You’re right there, Henry and her dad an MP too.’

A door squeaked open and then a lot of thumping noises and the steps came back, sounding heavier.

‘To your right Albert…no left.’

‘Make yer bloody mind up, Henry, this frame ways a ton.’

‘Stop whinging like a big Jessie…’

‘Who are you calling a Jessie..?’

The sounds and occasional thumps and curses receded and then it gradually went quiet again. I sighed with relief and sat on the bed.

‘That was close,’ I thought, ‘I’ll have to make sure that the door is locked all the time.’

~ §~

There were no more bits of excitement and I decided to stay in my room and wait for nightfall. I had an idea, but didn’t want to think too much about it until things had quietened down for the night.

In the mean time, I watched the girls out on the playing fields, carried on reading my book, had a snooze, so that I would be fresh for the evening and had a closer look at the pupil record that I had obtained together with the blank copy.

Lorna Ainsworth was the pupil’s name; she was twelve and lived in Surrey. She had the usual childhood illnesses and was in 2B. Her interests included hockey, drawing and she had a dog named Bess and a pony called Merrylegs. There were a few other bits and pieces about her like blood group, her doctor and previous academic record, but that was it.

I felt that I could easily do something similar for me if I wanted. One snag was that it was all type written and the only typewriters that I had seen were in the office–hang on though.

I recalled looking in all the junk rooms on this floor. It was a place where all things not needed or to be chucked away were stored. Maybe I should have a little look.

I made sure, as usual that the coast was clear and then made a systematic search of the rooms. After half an hour I had to concede defeat. There were no typewriters stashed away up here, so I would have to resort to plan B.

Wiping my brow, I sighed, wondering if I would get away with it–trying to make a record of myself, that is, or even if I should do it because, after all, I wasn’t planning to be a permanent fixture here.

You see, I had decided to go down to the office at the dead of night and use a typewriter to forge my own record. Why? Well, I had been stopped or spoken to by two mistresses now. What if one of them took it into her head to look up my school record.

‘I must be mad,’ I thought. ‘What would dad say? “Don’t take risks that you don’t need to.”’

Well my dad wasn’t exactly a success was he? I almost wished that he had been involved in the Great Train Robbery a few months back. What he could have done with a share of over two million pounds. Mind you, thinking about it, people were hurt on that job so maybe it was good that he wasn’t part of it. It was all academic anyway; he was dead now, just like my mum.

I paused what I was doing for a moment, wondering if mum had been buried yet. It made me shudder to think about it. It had only been a few days ago that she had died, although it seemed much longer. I had a crazy thought about going to her funeral and then shook my head–no I couldn’t. I snapped out of it and made my way back to my room.

I paused at my door. By now my blouse and skirt looked more than a little grubby. According to the bell tower and my timetable, I had about forty minutes before the girls would go to break. I needed a change of clothes. Although I now knew that girls weren’t allowed in the dorms at break time, it would just be my luck if some Cynthia, Petunia, Hyacinth or Daffodil, came up for a hankie.

Luckily I knew just which dorm to go to for a fresh supply of clothes, so I decided to take the opportunity and get a nice clean set of clothes and put the old ones in the wash basket by the door of the dorm.

‘Aren’t I a bright little girl?’ I thought as I made my way carefully downstairs and into the dorm.

I opened several drawers and cupboards and found that the little darlings had plenty of changes of clothes; I picked three sets at random that looked my size and as I had time, changed there and then into one of the sets. Then, after putting the soiled clothes in the laundry basket, I left the dorm and made my way back to my room–only just in time, because the bell went for end of classes.

It felt so good to be wearing clean clothes again, but I still felt a bit grubby, so I went to the wash room at the end of the corridor and gave myself a quick wash before returning to my room all nice and clean again.

It’s funny how most boys don’t care about their appearance and seem quite happy to go around all smelly and sweaty, including–I suppose–me, although I was never as bad as some. There was one boy at my school that boasted that he didn’t believe in washing or changing clothes more than once a fortnight–and he wondered why nobody wanted to sit next to him in class? One thing my dressing as a girl had taught me was that it’s decidedly pleasant to look and smell clean.

I had some more to eat and polished off the remainder of the milk. As I was going out on my rounds that evening, I decided to get in a few more supplies. In the mean time, I rested up, read some more about Joey Bettany and her chums and had forty winks.

Surprisingly soon, it was dark and the evening came. I listened to the girl’s conversation through my little hole as they went to bed. There wasn’t much of interest, the general subjects being clothes, boys, pop groups, boys, pimples, boys, makeup and boys, not necessarily in that order.

Listening to them, I smiled–it all seemed so normal and they sounded like a happy bunch. It was as if they belonged to some sort of extended family. Oh, they had rows and sniped at each other sometimes, but all in all they seemed happy to be where they were and I must admit, once again, to be feeling a bit envious.

They belonged and I didn’t.

~ §~

After final bell, the girls settled down. There were muted conversations for a while, but soon I could hear nothing other than the noises of sleep. Thank goodness that there weren’t any midnight feasts with goodies supplied from the tuck shop!

I carefully replaced the floorboard and got up stiffly. I had been down on the floor listening for ages. By torchlight, I quickly got changed into my nightdress and slipped into bed. I would wait until about one and then make my move.

Once again I must have slept as the clock struck two when I awoke again. Yawning, I got up from my comfortable warm bed, put on my dressing gown and slippers and then picking up my bag, the torch, map–just in case–together with the pupil records, I carefully made my way downstairs.

As before, all was quiet as I crept downstairs and headed for the kitchens. I would go to the office and type the pupil record on the way back. I just hoped that there wouldn’t be a repeat of last night’s drama!

As I now knew the lie of the land, I found the kitchens quickly and stocked up on more supplies of milk, pies, biscuits, cakes and a few items of fruit. I didn’t take very much as I didn’t want to raise suspicions. I just hoped that no-one kept much of a tally of the food here.

Having finished my unofficial shopping, I only regretted that I wasn’t eligible for Green Shield stamps. I didn’t need a torch as there were a few lights on to guide my way back towards the office–my next port of call.

I wondered whether the gels from The Chalet School did this sort of thing. They hadn’t yet in the book I was reading but I felt that it was the sort of thing that Inter V would get up to, given time.

You may think that I was just strolling along, but I was going carefully, stopping every few seconds and checking around corners to make sure that no one was about, before proceeding.

I reached the office fairly quickly and opened the door, shutting it behind me silently. Then I went over to the headmistress’s study and opened the door, almost expecting the good lady to be behind the desk, flexing a cane in her hands. It was empty, thank goodness!

It was nice and cosy in there as the fireplace had embers still burning in the grate.

I crossed the room to the window and drew the thick curtains across. My idea was to bring a typewriter in here and close the door. I needed to have the desk light on so that I could see what I was typing. I couldn’t use the office outside because there was a window that looked out on the corridor.

It was the work of a moment to bring in the typewriter, put it on the headmistress’s desk and slot the paper in the machine’s carriage.

I won’t bore you with my lack of typing skills or the number of new sheets I had to get from the noisy drawer before I completed my pupil record. I didn’t realise that I had so many thumbs and it was hard going. I don’t think that I would be a very good typist as my average speed was two words per minute–well it seemed that way. I tried to near enough copy the record for Lorna Ainsworth–changing a few names and places to protect the innocent, of course.

In the end, I finished my task and then put both Lorna’s and my pupil records back in the right order. I then shut the squeaky drawer as quietly as possible and returned to the head’s study. I picked up the spoilt forms and put them on the fire, making sure that they were thoroughly burnt; after all I didn’t want some Sherlock Holmes rifling through the ashes, did I?

Then I returned the typewriter to the office and finally pulled the curtains open again after switching off the lights in Miss Molestrangler’s study.

I had finished and it wasn’t even three thirty yet!

~ §~

I passed the San on the way back to my room and heard a sound coming from inside. Hesitating for a moment, I did something quite mad, I opened the door a peeped my head around.

To the left was matron’s office and it was dark in there. Ahead was a sort of hospital ward with four beds. Three of them were empty, but the fourth, by the window, was occupied. There was a small light by the side of the bed and the girl was lying on her side, away from me and she was sobbing her heart out, her body heaving.

My eyes pricked with tears and without realising what I was doing or the consequences, I went in, shut the door behind me and walked over to the bed.

There was a chair by the bed so I sat on it. It creaked slightly as I sat down and the girl stiffened and turned over.

‘Matr–oh, gosh, who are you––?’

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.