Continued from Letter home: More Consequences.
The following morning was wet, dark and raw. Philip reluctantly answered the summons of his old "Smiths" alarm clock by bashing its top to silence the bell; swivelled his legs round and sat on the bed. The movement caused his stiff and very sore bottom to remind him suddenly of last evening's parental thrashing and he vowed as he stood that from today he was going to behave immaculately. His cap would remain firmly on his head and he would never lie to his father again, thus unwittingly acknowledging to himself the efficacy of corporal punishment.
Philip was exceptionally polite to his parents at breakfast, which earned some maternal smiling encouragement and a little thawing of an otherwise still stern paternal countenance. The boy cleaned his shoes so that he could see his face in them and dressed in his school uniform ensuring that everything was just as it should be. For the finishing touch he donned his belted school raincoat he had made so much fuss of yesterday and put his new school cap (in which his mother had already sewn his name tape) on his head where it now belonged and left for the bus stop.
When he arrived at the stop there was only an elderly lady waiting and Philip queued behind her hoping the bus would arrive before any boys did from his school. Alas it was not to be and he was soon joined by a long trousered blue anorak wearing first former who he knew only by site but who now took a particular interest in Philip's dress. He stared at his cap and despite Philip trying to ignore the boy he followed Philip's averted head and noted the cap badge.
"Cor. What's that?" he enquired.
Philip pretended not to hear him and the younger boy diverted his attention to Philip's coloured sock tops showing beneath his navy raincoat.
"What form you in?" the junior asked his senior
"2B"
"Why you got a cap on your head?"
"It's my uniform"
"Is the shorts uniform as well?" the boy asked. Philip was about to reply when he was interrupted by a shout:
"Look! It's Smith in a school cap. What a sissy! What you got under the coat – nothing on? Forgotten your trousers?", Colin Turner jeered as he arrived behind Philip and lifted his coat tails up so that his companions and the first former had a good look at the back of his knees and his grey short trouser clad bottom.
"Did your daddy cane your naughty little bottom again?", Turner asked, releasing the coat but suddenly reaching up for Philip's cap but whose owner anticipating the move had both hands holding on to it firmly on his head.
"Yes, if you must know" said Philip, determined to be honest at all counts.
"Do you really get caned?" asked one of Turner's companions but Philip's answer was drowned by the arriving bus. The boys pushed on, except for Philip who politely let the elderly lady on before him and sat downstairs before the others had realised he had escaped them. Philip sat behind the lady and was just becoming relaxed when he heard the clumping of boy shoes descending the stairs and Turner sat right next to him.
"Go away, can't you Turner", Smith said.
"No" and as Turner replied he quickly knocked Philip's cap off, which landed on the lap of the passenger behind. Philip blushed and turned around to the man who was examining the cap.
"Sorry Sir, May I have my cap back"
"Yes son, certainly, since you ask so politely" and he obligingly placed it back on Philip's head, who pulled the peak down, turned and thanked the gentleman. Turner who was in fits of laughter repeated his antic causing Philip's ears to redden considerably and his temper to become frayed at the edges.
"Shut up!" he said very loudly and he turned to the gentleman for the second time who again restored the cap to its rightful home.
"I really am sorry Sir." He apologised again.
"It's not you fault young man. I can see what is going on. You . ." he said prodding Turner's uncovered head "behave yourself. I know which school you go to and I know your name is Turner"
The accused scowled, turned as if to say something to the man but changed his mind, stood up and went upstairs leaving a very relieved boy behind.
"Thank you very much Sir" he said.
"That's quite all right", the man said as he stood for his stop. "What a rare pleasure these days to meet a polite schoolboy" and he held his hand out to Philip.
Philip stood and shook the man's hand and then lifting his cap thanked the gentleman again causing the elderly lady to turn and smile at him. Philip then noticed several pairs of adult eyes looking at him approvingly including those of the conductor and the boy sat down again and blushed even more.
In order to have any reasonable certainly of retaining his cap during the short walk from the bus stop to the school Philip put is satchel on his back to keep his hands free to fight off fellow schoolboys intent on removing his unwonted head covering. It seemed so unfair to be put through this torment. Why was he the guinea pig? He didn't want to be a trail blazer. Where was Grainger when you wanted him? Where were any other caps or short trousers? He was surrounded only by bare headed and knee covered boys and badly wanted a friendly face; one who understood why he was being so impossibly good; one who understood what it was like to be severely beaten with a cane.
After managing to avoid Turner's continued efforts to remove his cap Smith positioned himself immediately next to two deeply conversing prefects for the remainder of the walk to school and although they did not notice Smith it was sufficient to deter Turner and his accomplices. Once in the playground however Turner immediately descended on Smith and continued his game, this time with more success and managed to hurl Smith's new cap high over the chain link fence and onto the adjoining railway line. Philip watched his cap take flight and seeing it land in such an impossible place he immediately lost his temper and with tears welling up in his eyes he kicked Colin hard in the shin of his left leg, causing him to howl in agony, but after recovering quickly he went for Smith with his right fist and caught him on his nose.
The boys were now locked in serious combat. Philip was incensed with Turner and fought the boy with an ability he did not know he possessed. The combatants were soon surrounded by dozens of boys and the chant went up: "FIGHT. FIGHT. FIGHT", thus attracting even more boys until the ring surrounding the contestants was at least six boys deep. Both were sprawling on the wet playground and aiming punches at each other, some of which were connecting. Both had bruises on their eyes and nose bleeds and Turner's lip was bleeding. Smith had cut his right knee on the playground as he went down and had sustained tears in his coat, his socks were down (pulled down by Turner who had somehow managed to break one of the gaiters) and his shoes were badly scuffed. Turner had torn his blazer and both knees of his trousers and each was soaked and filthy dirty. Smith just continued to lash out at Turner, crying as he did so until he became aware of a sudden silence and his coat collar being grabbed from behind, not by Turner but by a large strong hand. Philip was blind with rage and tears and did not really comprehend what was happening as he was propelled by force into the school building and marched quickly to the headmaster's study. Once there he felt into his shorts for a handkerchief, could not find one and attempted to wipe his bloody and tear streaked face on his coat sleeves. He felt a sharp smack on his head from the arresting schoolmaster, Mr. Hudson (Geography) but who then assisted Smith by offering his own handkerchief and the boy used it sufficiently efficiently to restore his vision and be greeted with the site of Turner opposite him in the corridor. He was not crying, just bleeding and he was using his own handkerchief to stem the flow from his nose and lip whilst his left ear was being held firmly by Mr Jones who had used it to pull the boy all the way from the playground.
The headmaster's secretary laid out newspapers on the carpet in front of the study desk and the two miscreants were placed thereon to drip blood, sweat and in Smith's case tears.
"This is appalling. How dare you behave in this way and you Smith – a Schoolboy Society member. What sort of example is this to set?"
Smith wept bitterly as the import of what had happened entered his consciousness. The headmaster looked hard at the boy who was clearly distressed, then turned to look at Turner.
"What do you mean by this?"
"Nothing Sir", said Turner.
"Go to the changing rooms and clean yourself up and report back here at morning break. Put your PT kit on and bring your clothes with you. I will require a full explanation before I decide how to deal with you" instructed the Head who wished he could deal with him in the same way as he was going to deal with Smith. Turner was led out by Mr Jones.
"Smith. I will see you immediately after assembly. You are in no state to attend that and must use the time to restore yourself to some semblance of good order. Have a shower and put your PT kit on.
"Yes Sir" sniffed Smith through his tears, which continued unabated and found himself being led to the changing rooms by Mr Hunter. Turner was showering and Mr Jones was folding up his discarded damaged uniform. Smith stripped and entered the shower, ignoring Turner who was wrapping himself in a towel. The two schoolmasters stared at Smith's bottom and so did Turner, mouth wide open and letting his towel fall to the floor in his amazement. He was quickly made to put his PT kit on and sent to the assembly hall, followed by Mr Turner. Mr Jones remained behind to attend to his form pupil who emerged, dripping from the shower but had now managed to stop crying. Mr Jones assisted the boy to dry himself and handed him his white PT shorts.
"Who gave you that caning?" he asked as Philip stepped into his flimsy cotton shorts and started to shiver. He had forgotten his thrashing during the recent events concentrating more on his badly grazed knee, black eyes, nose which he thought must be broken and teeth that felt as if they were about to fall out.
"My fa. .. fa .. fa .. ther", he explained and sat carefully on the bench to put his plimsolls on.
"What did you do?"
"I di . . di. . didn't wear my cap and t - - t - -told him a lie about it" shivered Philip.
"So why on earth did you get into a scrape this morning knowing what you are likely to get?"
"I . . I . . w . .w . .was t . . .t. rying ever so hard. T. .t. urner kept trying to take my cap" Smith replied from under his vest as he pulled it over his head. The luckless boy was then told to comb his hair and then led back to the Headmaster's study, holding his uniform in his arms and instructed to stand outside, to await his fate. Philip did so and shivered for half an hour both from cold and a fear of what was about to happen.
The Headmaster arrived and ushered the miserable boy into his study. Philip stood on the carpet, this time without a newspaper to protect it. His attention by then had switched from the injuries inflicted by Turner to those sustained from his father's cane and really concerned that he would simply not be able to take any more punishment. It all seemed extremely unfair and he so wished that one of the adults that had travelled with him on the bus this morning could have suddenly appeared. He had nobody to help. Fights were always treated seriously and both boys well punished regardless of where the fault lay but it seemed desperately unfair that he would be caned and Turner would probably get nothing more than a double detention. The headmaster was sitting at his desk contemplating the boy before him, wondering whether to call for Turner to be present to witness Smith's thrashing, both to enhance the punishment for Smith and to educate Turner; to warn him maybe that his own father might punish him in a similar way this evening, but thinking it far more likely that Smith would receive a further dose himself and Turner would escape unscathed.
"Please Sir . . . ."
"Smith. You are a thorough disgrace", said the headmaster as he stood.
"Please Sir . . ."
"I cannot believe that a boy who has just been enrolled in the Schoolboys Society" continued the headmaster going to his cupboard.
"Please Sir . . ."
"Would dare to get into a fight with another boy", taking out three canes and laying them on his desk
"Pleeeease Sir . .," from Smith
"SILENCE"
The headmaster buzzed the intercom and instructed his secretary to organise Turner's immediate appearance in his study. Smith tried to gather his thoughts and asked himself what he had to do to avoid the inevitable, still holding on to his school clothes. The headmaster swished each cane in turn, walking around his study letting Smith just stand and shake. A small knock at the door interrupted a particularly loud swish as the headmaster exercised his senior cane.
"COME"
Turner entered bashfully in his PT kit, also clutching his dirty school uniform and stood beside Smith.
"Well Turner. I have asked you here now to witness Smith's punishment. I am not interested in explanations. You have both been fighting, which is a serious infringement of school rules and in the process have ruined your uniforms. You Turner are in double detention and will write out 1,000 lines to be on my desk first thing on Friday morning. I am also writing to your father and you shall collect the letter at 3.45, together with the words for the lines. You will remain in PT kit for the rest of the day and travel home in it with your uniform in a bag that I shall give you. You will explain its condition to your parents and I would hope that your father gives you something along the lines of what you are going to see me give to Smith"
"Yes, Sir" said Turner but not expecting to get anything but a telling off at home and probably some stopped pocket money.
"Turner stand over by the bookcase and put your uniform down beside you. Your punishment Smith has to reflect your status as a Schoolboy Society member and in addition to 2,000 lines and a double detention for Friday week – as you are already in detention this Friday – I shall cane you now in front of Turner. I shall also give you your new punishment book, which as you know has to be shown to both of your parents. Put your uniform down beside you and remove your PT shorts!"
Turner cleared the area and Smith took his PT shorts off, revealing his injured buttocks to the headmaster for the first time and Turner for the second.
"Did your father do that?"
"Yes, Sir"
"Why?"
"For not wearing my cap, Sir"
The headmaster raised his eyebrows. Turner felt excited.
"For not wearing your cap?"
"Yes Sir, but mostly for lying, Sir"
"That is more like it. If you lied to your father you deserved every stroke"
"Yes Sir," Smith agreed.
The headmaster hesitated and went back to his cupboard. Turner felt down inside of his PT shorts but removed his hand when the headmaster took out a fairly short thin cane and came around to Philip's side of the desk. The boy made no attempt to hide his tiny willy from either the headmaster or Turner but preferred instead to hold onto his bottom.
"Smith. As your father has punished you so severely, so recently I shall not apply many strokes to your bottom. Instead I shall cane your hands and legs. Hold out your right hand!"
Smith held his hand out. The headmaster tapped it with the thin cane.
"Straighten the fingers. Flatten the palm" and he tapped the hand until Smith was holding it out perfectly flat and rigid. Turner was delighted to see that Smith was unwittingly holding on to his willy with his other hand and reached for his own again. In common with all good schoolmasters the headmaster was blessed with peripheral vision and saw what Turner had done but either did not see, or ignored the whereabouts of Smith's other hand.
"Turner. Hands on head. Smith look at me. Do not move your hand until I tell you I have finished with it", ordered the headmaster and looked the boy in the eye as he raised his cane but then concentrated on not missing the hand he wished to punish as he slashed the stick down upon it. Smith took the stroke with a slight whimper and fought successfully to keep his hand in place. A little bump was visible at the front of Turner's white shorts. The headmaster caned Smith's hand again and this time the whimper was much louder. The third stroke made the boy cry and to put his hand between his naked thighs to cope with the pain. A medium sized bump was now visible in the front of Turner's shorts.
"SMITH" thundered the head. "HAND OUT AGAIN"
The boy met his headmaster's eyes and offered his hand once more, which again was rewarded with stinging, excruciating pain.
"Other hand!"
The headmaster then treated Smith's left hand to the pleasures of the cane. Three times it was administered, three times Smith yelled and three times it seemed Turner's protuberance grew, like Pinocchio's nose, but it was Turner's silence that inferred his dishonesty.
Smith stood and cried with his arms crossed, nestling each injured hand in his armpits for comfort. The headmaster put his thin hand cane down and selected another, a little thicker and longer.
"Smith, stand to attention against my desk. Feet together and hands on your head!"
Smith obeyed, pressing his groin up against the desk, feeling the cold wood against his willy.
The headmaster walked behind the boy, wondering at the impressive size of Turner's horizontal tent pole and the visible effects of his pupil's chastised bottom but it was the boy's legs he was now paying attention to. He slashed the stick against them starting not far above his knee joints. The boy cried afresh and although permission was not granted removed his hands from his head and used them to support his body on the desk, whilst the headmaster concentrated on creating eight evenly spaced parallel welts up his legs and thighs. Philip concentrated on living through the ordeal as best he could and Turner, to his credit was beginning to feel uncomfortable at this treatment of his class fellow. Finally the headmaster pushed Smith down by his shoulders so that his arms collapsed under him and he gripped on to the other side of the desk. He then felt the cane again, but this time in the centre of his buttocks. Just twice but enough to awaken every hurt from yesterday and he howled in agony. Turner's erection had disappeared and he felt sorry for Smith as he watched him retrieve his PT shorts.
The boys were dismissed and went to their first lesson. Turner tried to say sorry but Smith was in no mood to listen to him. His day was awful. Everywhere he went he was greeted with laughter and comment about his striped legs and further amusement but very little sympathy about his two black eyes and grazed knee. He was freezing in his inadequate PT kit and the wooden seats of the classroom chairs continued to punish his bottom and thighs. Grainger was not at school today so he had nobody in his form to talk to that would understand, except perhaps for Turner who was feeling very guilty indeed but was too embarrassed to attempt a reconciliation in front of other boys. Philip's day ended with the hour long detention he had been given the previous day in maths and his miserable attempt at concentrating on extra algebra only gave him a headache to add to all his other pains. It was an abject boy that presented himself before the headmaster to collect his things.
"Come in Smith," invited the headmaster and Philip entered the warmth of his study from the freezing corridor.
"I did say you had to go home as you were but you will be pleased to know I have changed my mind", and the master took down a clothes hanger from behind his door containing Smith's uniform and coat. He then produced his briefs, socks and shoes from behind his desk.
"We have done what we can. Luckily most of your uniform escaped the worst as you had your coat on, but that is a perfect disgrace. Get your PT kit off and dress now."
Philip gladly obeyed and could not wait to get his school shorts on, which made at least three of the cane stripes disappear from view at the back of his freezing legs, which also welcomed the caressing warmth of his long school socks.
"You will be needing this", the headmaster said offering Smith his cap.
"Gosh. Sir. How did you get that?"
"A railway worker found it on the line by the playground and brought it round. It clearly has your name in. How do you explain where it was found."
" I can't Sir."
Whether the headmaster guessed or had been informed of what had happened already is not known, but he did not pursue the matter. Instead he gave Philip his new punishment book that contained details of this mornings caning and the reason for it as well as the line he had to write out 2,000 times and the fact of his double detention. It was up to the boy to explain this to his father. Turner had left for home in his PT kit an hour ago together with the headmaster's letter addressed to his parents and his damaged uniform in a carrier bag.
"Now off you go Smith and carry your coat, it is too scruffy to wear"
"Thank you Sir", said the boy, picked up his satchel and left the school building, remembering to put his cap on as he did so.
At home, after looking briefly at the letter, Philip's clothing and his bruises (produced by both boy and master) she installed her son in his bedroom to concentrate on his homework and lines, but principally to await her husband's return. For the third day running she decided to put back the family meal. Philip started his lines but it was going to take all his available spare time to complete so many: twice as many as Turner was given. To allow his writer's cramp to ease he leaned on his window sill and looked out across darkness of the gardens to the backs of the houses opposite. Most of their lights were on including those upstairs and Philip tried to guess which revealed Colin Turner's bedroom. He knew the house and correctly guessed the room but although the light was on it was only occupied by the eleven year old brother, James busy with his homework but conscious of some sort of argument going on downstairs.
Philip was roused from his reverie by the ringing of the telephone bell in the hall and went back to his lines. Five minutes and twenty-one lines later he heard his father return and his stomach sank once more. Sixty-seven lines later he heard his father calling him and he laid down his fountain pen, stood, checked his socks, combed his hair quickly, took a deep breath and ventured down to face his father.
"Come in Philip and sit down", said his father in a friendly voice. His mother was sitting on the settee and indicated that Philip should sit next to her whilst father sat in his usual chair.
"Oh thanks Sir" said the boy and sat down nervously.
"In your own time and in your own words tell us both what happened this morning. I have read your punishment book and it does not look very good does it?"
"Yes. I mean no Sir"
"Go on. Everything."
So Philip told his parents what they had asked for. The whole truth but omitting Turner's name but simply referring to him as a boy in his year. He explained how the headmaster had punished him and what the other boy had been given and how unfair it seemed and about the nice man on the bus and how he wished he knew how to get hold of him and how happy he was when his cap was returned and how it got where it did and well, everything and . . . his father interrupted:
"All right Philip. I know."
"You know, Sir?"
"I have just spoken to Mr Turner on the telephone. Does that ring a bell?"
"The telephone, Sir?" asked the boy cheekily and suddenly feeling secure. Both his parents laughed and looked at their son to continue.
"Sorry. Yes Sir. It was Turner. He has been absolute hell since I was put back into short trousers, but the cap was the final straw."
"And he made certain you were well thrashed this morning and was happy to watch?"
"He did say sorry later" defended Philip
"Well I think he will be sorry soon when his father finishes with him", said Mr Smith causing a little stir of excitement in his son. "He will also be apologising to you tomorrow, properly this time and in public", he added.
"So everyone will know what a horrible little . . .thing he is. He won't be doing my 2,000 lines or my double detention and how can anyone uncane me?"
"Don't misunderstand us Philip. Your caning and other punishments were thoroughly deserved. You were found fighting in the playground like animals and whatever the motivation for that it was disgraceful behaviour, especially for a Schoolboy Society member. Your extra severe school punishment is in keeping but young Turner will be at the mercy of his father. It is only that you have proved your honesty to me and your determination to keep your cap on your head that prevents me from taking my cane to you again now, which you must normally expect if you misbehave at school. Do you understand?"
"Yes, Sir. Sorry Sir", said the boy and he stood feeling it more appropriate.
"Now off you go and get on with those lines", said father.
"And I must get on with dinner," said mother. "I have also to make you a new gaiter and attempt to mend your coat and shorts. I shall leave clean shorts and socks by your bed for the morning, Philip"
"Yes mum"
"And Philip" called Mr Smith as his son was leaving the room.
"Your pocket money is stopped for three weeks"
"Yes, Sir, thank you Sir", and the boy retreated to his bedroom before his father had time to add anything else of the punitive kind and looked out of his window again. If only he had been able to see into Turner's bedroom, for at that very moment he could have watched him laying front down on his bed, his bottom lifted up by three pillows, his PT shorts around his ankles and his very angry father beating his bare bottom and upper legs repeatedly and very severely with a thick leather belt; watched by his youngest son sitting cross-legged on his own bed, having temporarily laid aside his unfinished homework.
It would have been well also for the elder brother, Paul to have witnessed Colin's punishment that evening for it had been a very long time since any Turner had felt the strap, but Paul was beyond this now. He had not yet returned from school, preferring instead to hang about with his friends. It was two hours later when both Colin and James were tucked up in bed that the telephone rang and a worried Mrs Turner answered it.