BEXHILL SCHOOL

 

Considering the amount of shrieking that had been going on, it was scarcely surprising that the attention of the Headmaster had been attracted. The disaster had been the wet sponge that whistled past his ear and splatted soggily against the wall as he opened the door to the changing rooms. Both the girls, topless and dripping from their water fight, stood aghast in the doorway to the showers. They could not fail to notice that the Headmaster was carrying a cane - a very whippy-looking Senior.

Without speaking he moved one of the wooden supports for the tables out from against its place next to the wall. What happened next was strange: he picked up one of the enamel jugs used to bring out refreshments for the teams at half-time during hockey matches. He filled it with cold water. Then, again without saying a word, he looked at Daphne and simply tapped the top of the trestle with the tip of the cane. The message was unmistakable. She lowered herself uncomfortably across the sharp wooden edges and placed her hands on the floor.

Then, to the girls' utter amazement, the Headmaster slowly and deliberately emptied the entire contents of the jug over her shorts. She gasped in surprise, as did Mandy, who stared with horror, well aware that it would be her turn next.

Still the Headmaster didn't speak. He simply laid his cane against the wet fabric of the shorts which clung to Daphne's buttocks like a second skin. They were going to provide no relief at all against the flailing of that rattan rod.