Two weeks passed without much alteration in this routine. Maureen had made her plans to visit her friends in the North of Spain. She had decided on two weeks and intended to stay in touch with Jack's school and Basil's parents by telephone.
Basil was torn between anxiety of the unknown school and the excitement of making friends with some of the boys there. Jack had told him to pack only a pair of shorts and a shirt in addition to his toilet kit. The school would provide the necessary uniform.
So, on a grey Monday morning, Maureen Walker gave Susan and Basil her last instructions, Susan to behave during her stay with her friend and Basil during his stay at the school. Then the taxi drew up, Maureen jumped in, waved and was gone.
Jack Pryor waited until Susan's friend had arrived with the friend's mother and was also whisked off, leaving man and boy alone in the house.
"Well, Basil, my boy, it's time for us to go as well, but before we get into the car, I think a sound caning will be appropriate. I want you to be in a receptive mood when we get to the school and I want to make sure the other boys will know that you are not a teacher's pet seeing that we drive up together. So lower your shorts and bend over. Just touch your toes and don't move. This will be painful, so be prepared."
Basil wanted to protest but, knowing that it would only provoke more blows, he kept quiet, undid his tight little shorts and pushed them down his thighs until they fell to his ankles. Then he bent and just managed to touch his toes with his fingertips.
"Further down. Come on, get those fingers to the carpet. Next time I'll make you touch the floor with your palms. You'll learn."
Basil strained to bend further and almost immediately felt the burning stripe low down on his buttocks. Jack's effort was rewarded with a loud squeal. It was the hardest caning Basil had ever received from Jack and after the first dozen strokes he was bellowing like a bull calf led to slaughter. He behaved better during the second dozen because he had no more strength. The boy realised through his pain that the searing strokes landed more often than usual across his upper thighs.
Jack eyed the thick, purple welts that the cane left across the boy's thighs and was satisfied. He wanted all the boys to see the weals below the hems of the shorts Basil would be wearing at school.
At last Jack lowered the cane. "Pull up your shorts and come along. The car is waiting." He led the sobbing boy by the ear to the car and propelled him inside. The driver, a young man in uniform, grinned.
"New boy, eh, Mr. Pryor?" he said with a wink at the crying youngster.
"Yes, Rodney, but he will be just a two-week boarder. A special guest, so to speak. We are going to pay special attention to him during that period."
"Attention to his backside, I venture," the driver laughed.
"Yes, Rodney, attention to his backside. He'll be under a discipline that'll make his ears curl. I'm goingto see to that personally. I've been helping with his education for a few months now, but I'm afraid he's a slow learner and still has a long way to go before he shows signs of improvement."
"Two weeks isn't a long time, Mr. Pryor," Rodney said, looking at the weeping boy in the back seat, shifting from side to side. "You will have to make the most of it during that period."
"And I will. The boy won't know what hit him."
"Oh, yes, he will," Rodney laughed. "It'll be you and all the other masters."
The drive took two hours during which time Basil's bottom ached and throbbed. The slightest bump or ruts in the road made him cry out as his bottom landed painfully on the seat of the car. When they finally arrived, it had started to snow.
"Get out," Jack ordered the boy and then followed him up the broad stone steps toward the front of the large building. Basil looked about but saw only a grey sky, grey buildings and grey snowflakes falling more thickly every minute. He grabbed his small case and ran after Jack who was already taking two steps at a time to get out of the cold.
Not that the inside hall, where they stood, was much warmer. Basil shivered in his thin shorts and wondered where all the other boys were. It was around noon, he guessed, and maybe they were having lunch. But it was eerrily quiet.
"Ah, there you are, Mr. Pryor," came a booming voice and when Basil looked up, he saw a large, heavy woman approach at a fast pace. "I see you have the youngster with you. What a weather! Did you have problems during the ride? Come in, come in. Everything is prepared." She paused for breath and Jack took advantage of it.
"Thank you, Mrs. Bonner. All went according to schedule. Yes, this is young Basil, a most naughty, spoiled and ill-behaved little boy who has come here to learn proper manners. Basil, this is Mrs. Bonner, matron of the school. You will obey her in every way. I have encouraged her to report any kind of misbehaviour on your part directly to me, but also given her free rein in disciplining you herself when you need it. You will go with her now. March!"
Basil's ear was gripped once more in a painful squeeze as Mrs. Bonner took charge. She brooked no nonsense and she intended to deal with this ill-bred child in no uncertain terms.
Basil trotted alongside holding the matron's hand that pulled on his ear. Why did they always have to drag you by the ear, the boy wondered, trying to keep up. I'd follow on my own.
Mrs. Bonner brought the boy into a large room that resembled a clothing store. There were shelves holding shirts, socks, shirts, blazers, caps and trousers. The shelves were sorted by size and Mrs. Bonner marched up to the shirt section first. She looked Basil up and down, then selected a size, removed a light blue, long-sleeved shirt. She unfolded it and held it against Basil's chest.
"Looks just about right," she said. "Take off your shirt and try this on."
The shirt was a soft cotton and it fit snug against his rib cage. The length reached to a bit below the waist.
"Isn't this a bit small?" Basil said, tugging at the hems, trying to cover his front.
"I don't recall having asked your opinion," Mrs. Donner said gruffly and slapped the boy's face hard. "You'll speak when you're spoken to, my boy." Another hard slap followed on the boy's other cheek.
"Take off your shorts," she told the boy. His face was burning and the slaps had brought tears to his eyes. He tried to keep them in; he didn't want this woman to think that he cried so easily. He took off his shorts and waited while the matron inspected the shelves housing a large selection of trousers. After several minutes of taking out a pair, holding them against Basil's bare mid-section, and then returning them, she selected a pair of dark blue serge.
"Here, put these on."
Basil took them and stepped inside. He pulled them up and butttoned them. Then he stood as Matron inspected him.
"No, too ample. Take them off again."
Another two pairs followed the first's example but on the fourth try, Matron was satisfied. She rubbed her hands and muttered, "Yes, that much better. Very good, yes, these are just right." Basil was not as happy. Matron had this time selected a pair of soft, grey flannel and he felt the thin shorts grip each buttock while the middle seam cut into the cleft. When he reached behind, he felt the lower curve of his bare buttocks protruding from the brief hems. His cheeks still glowing, he didn't say anything but waited while Mrs. Donner walked slowly around him.
"At least you have some excellent cane marks on your thighs and lower bottom," she said as she stood behind the boy. "Not all is lost. Now let's get some socks and slippers and you can join the other boys. They are all in the dining hall having their lunch. You may still be in time for a quick snack."
Thus attired, feeling naked and awkward, he was propelled, again by the ear, into the dining hall. About forty boys were seated on long benches at wooden tables, a sea of bare legs. They looked up as Basil was marched to the end of one of the tables and told to sit. No one spoke. At a separate table, on the dais opposite of the entrance to the large hall, sat the masters. They conversed in low voices while the boys ate in complete silence. To talk during mealtimes was a caneable offense and few pupils failed to remember the consequences of breaking this rule.
Lunch wa almost finished and Basil just managed to get hold of an apple before they were ordered to stand. The masters left first and those who were not in charge of leading the boys back , went directly to their classrooms. Jack Pryor went to his study to await some visitors with a possible new student.