Rupert Truman, Earl of Guildford, was now, at the age of 21, joint headmaster of a boys preparatory school called Lexton. It had been a hectic Christmas. Several large removals vans had been needed to move an enormous amount of furniture from the school's old premises to Framley Hall, Rupert's second main house in Surrey. There were desks, chairs, blackboards, refectory tables, benches, boys' beds, bedside tables, a reasonably impressive library of books, masters' common room furniture, yards and yards of boards with hooks for boys' clothes and many other smaller objects necessary for the smooth running of a boys' school (Rupert had particularly noticed a bundle of about fifteen canes).
A fair amount of building work was necessary inside the Hall. One of the drawing rooms had to be converted into a communal shower room for the boys to use after games. The ball room became the gym. The morning room was turned into a games room. The East wing was to be used exclusively for class rooms. The West wing first, second and third floors were to be dormitories, with a suite of rooms on the first floor being set aside for matron (Rupert's beautiful nineteen year old girlfriend Lucinda Grey). Fortunately, the rooms were sufficiently large for the purpose, but some conversion work was still required. The ground floor of the West Wing was to house the masters' common room and bedrooms for four junior masters (other masters were provided with housing on the estate). Mr Rampton, the other joint headmaster, was given the dower house.
Rupert himself took the first and second floors of the central block (above the new gym, shower room, games room, boys dining room and boys common rooms). On the first floor there was to be a large drawing room, for entertaining parents, a dining room, a sitting room and a study. The study was to be on the western side of the central block with one door leading to the West wing itself and one to the lobby of the first floor of the central block. On the second floor there were five main bedrooms (Rupert's goal was to persuade Lucinda to marry him as soon as possible and he thought it would be sensible to arrange the accommodation as being suitable for a family). The third floor of the central block was to be left empty for the present, but Rupert had every hope that the school would prove so successful that it could eventually be used to provide more dormitories.
All this work had to be done between the end of the Christmas term and the beginning of the Easter term, a matter of weeks. Rupert was on the site night and day, urging his estate staff (who had been brought in to help) to work as hard and fast as possible. He was sorry that he could not spend more time at Guildford Manor, the family's main house in Surrey, with his mother and brothers, but he knew that the success of his project would depend largely on his ability to transform Framley Hall into a model school by the beginning of term. He was perfectly well aware that some parents were showing signs of nervousness at the prospect of their sons' welfare being entrusted to someone as young as twenty one. If, when they arrived with their offspring on the first day of term, they found a building site rather than a well-ordered school, there would be a great risk of defections. Indeed, two boys had already been withdrawn from the school and other parents had indicated that they were going to look on the Easter term as a trial period.
Rupert knew that he had been lucky not to have lost more boys. He guessed, rightly, that an element of snobbishness had helped him. Some of the mothers, in particular, were quite looking forward to dropping his name to their friends at coffee mornings. But a school could not survive on snobbishness alone. And Rupert, you must remember, was a Truman through and through. Although he could quite easily have afforded to keep the school running at a loss indefinitely, he was determined that, like any other Truman project, it should flourish and become profitable as soon as possible. His aim was to make Lexton (he actually hoped it would soon become known as Framley) one of the top prep schools in the land. That could not be achieved, he knew, without equipping the place with every modern facility available. But more important than that was the need to ensure that the teaching staff were of outstanding quality.
It was in this area that Rupert had had the greatest difficulty. He was a great believer in the importance of continuity. The existing staff, he realised, would have to be retained, at least for a few terms. But it had not taken him long to grasp the fact that some of them had passed their peaks. Towards the end of the previous term he had sat in on a few classes, to enable him to judge how the school was performing. None of the teaching had been downright bad, but some of it had, to put it politely, been uninspiring. Mr Juniper (unsurprisingly known to the boys as "berry") had taken a history lesson in such an obviously bored manner that some of the boys had looked half asleep. He had slippered one boy for gazing out of a window, but even that simple task had been performed with such an air of boredom that Rupert doubted very much that it had had any real effect on the boy. Mr Stye (or "piggy") had been taking a Latin lesson with an extraordinary lack of enthusiasm. He had merely written some Latin words on the blackboard and required the boys to memorise them by the end of the class, awarding one stroke of the slipper for each word not accurately recalled. Others had not been as bad. But Rupert was quite convinced that the school needed some new blood.
The difficulty was that he had agreed with Mr Rampton that he was to have sole responsibility for the teaching staff while Rupert's province was to be limited to welfare and discipline outside the classroom and to such things as games and scouts. The last thing he wanted, however, was for Mr Rampton to recruit any new staff. The task demanded all his diplomatic skills and it is a tribute to them that he succeeded.
Rupert's first step was to allocate housing to all the existing staff. Cottages and small houses were all decorated and comfortably furnished. The masters were, to a man, delighted to find that they were to be so comfortably accommodated, away from the irritating noise of a hundred lively boys. Once they had all been satisfied, he made his approach to Mr Rampton. He said that it was clearly going to be important to have male staff living in the main building to assist him in looking after the boys when they weren't in class. He pointed out that, although he was not intending to attend the House of Lords a great deal, there would obviously be some occasions on which he would wish to take part in debates. Since the House often sat quite late at night, there was going to be a need for one or two masters to be around to administer any necessary correction to boys who misbehaved in their dormitories. He was also hoping, he said, to improve the standard of cricket, football and rugby in the school. It was already, he quickly added, outstanding (a considerable exaggeration), but he thought that a few younger masters could add just that little bit more to bring the school to the top of the prep school league tables. Since these extra masters were being recruited chiefly to assist him with his responsibilities, he suggested that he would quite understand if Mr Rampton felt that the task of recruiting them should be undertaken by him, Rupert, rather than by the head of teaching. He stressed that he would ensure that the academic abilities of the new masters would have to be good and that they would certainly be available to take lessons and reduce the pressure on the existing staff.
Mr Rampton, it has to be said, was on the lazy side. Even if Rupert had not been so tactful, I suspect he would have had no difficulty in persuading the older man. But the tact was still important. Rupert knew that anything he said which might afford Mr Rampton a sense of grievance could be very damaging to his long-term cause.
And so the task of finding new masters began. Rupert decided he wanted four. All would be under twenty five. At least two should be recent graduates, keen on a career in teaching. But there would also be room for one or two who were between school and university. What he wanted to ensure was the masters whom the boys came across most outside the classroom were lively and popular with the boys. They should also, of course, be good disciplinarians. But good discipline, he quite understood, was far more easy to achieve if those in authority were liked and admired by the boys.
The graduates, whom he hoped would stay at the school for some time, were the first priority. But they presented no problems. There was one obvious candidate. Timothy Jackson had been at the same college as Rupert at Cambridge. He had not been quite so successful, but he had still come out with a first in history. His family were poor and not that well connected. That wouldn't have stopped him going into the civil service or even the foreign office. But his main ambition had always been to teach. And he was clearly, in Rupert's eyes, entirely cut out for the task. He was good-looking, obviously clever and, above all, an excellent all round sportsman. Rupert was sure that he would be adored by prep school boys. The only trouble was that he had already got a post at a minor public school. But Rupert was not to be put off. He thought of asking his friend over for one of the estate shoots. But then he realised that that could be a mistake. He doubted whether Timothy had much, if any, experience at shooting and he didn't want to embarrass him by demonstrating his ignorance. So, instead, he asked him over to Framley Hall to seek his advice on the preparations for the school.
Timothy, of course, had been immensely impressed by all that was being done. He could see that the school was being equipped with no concern for cost. Had he been a lesser man, he would have been envious of his friend's good fortune. But he was generous in his praise and helpful in his advice. He stayed a weekend. Lucinda came to dinner on the Friday night. He was, as all young men were, immediately charmed by her conversation and her looks. On the Saturday he went on a tour of the grounds with Rupert. He saw the care with which large areas were being transformed into full sized games pitches. The new cricket pavilion was almost finished and was, he said, twice as good as the one at his, much larger, public school. At lunchtime, James and Richard, Rupert's younger brothers, joined them. Rupert immediately noticed how well Timothy got on with them, and how much they obviously liked him.
By the Sunday Timothy was head over heels in love with the idea of the new Lexton School. Before lunch, Rupert took him to the village pub for a pint of bitter. It was only then that he broached the idea of Timothy joining his staff. Timothy's immediate instinct was to jump at the plan. But he was an honourable man and he did not like the idea of letting down his new employers. Rupert was firmly intending to offer his friend a salary which was considerably larger than his present one. But he knew Timothy's character too well to assume that money alone would do the trick. Instead, he waxed lyrical about all that Timothy could achieve in a school like Lexton. He spoke of the far greater responsibility he would be given there, of the chances he would have to bring about change for the good (because Rupert would always be receptive to new ideas) and of the rewards of preparing boys, academically and socially, for the world of public school. The, he said that, of course, he would think it only right that he should pay Timothy's present school a year's salary in lieu of notice.
Of course Timothy relented. How could he do otherwise? An opportunity like this could surely only come once in a lifetime. He agreed to take the post and, after further persuasion, to start immediately, even before the beginning of the new term. It was only once they had shaken on it that Rupert raised the delicate subject of the financial terms of the engagement.
"I know it's awful for a pal to ask questions like these, but I have to if we are to get all the terms sorted out. Would you mind telling me what you are paid now and all that sort of thing?"
"That's ok. Well, I'm on £1,000 a year, due to rise after a full year to £1,500. I get a room in one of the school houses and I get all meals. They dock £500 a year for accommodation and food. If I want to use my room in the holidays I have to pay £5 a week."
Rupert had already discovered that schoolmasters were paid extraordinarily badly (he had promptly raised the salaries of all the masters when he had seen the books). But the figures Timothy gave him really shocked him.
"That's just appalling. I was afraid you'd tell me that what I was going to propose was much less than you were being paid already. Look, this is the deal. I'm not going to give you a probationary period or anything like that. You will start on full salary. That will be £3,000 a year. You will have a bedroom, sitting room and bathroom in the main building. All your food will be provided during term time. There will be no charge for accommodation or food. In holidays, you can use your rooms whenever you want, and there will be no charge for that either. If you are staying and I'm around as well I will be delighted if you join me for meals."
Timothy was absolutely astounded at this generosity. "But Rupert, that is just phenomenal. I don't know what to say. It's just so generous".
"No it's not. I haven't filled you in on your duties yet. Time to yourself is something of the past now. So far as the outside world is concerned, you will be one of the most junior staff. But in reality you are going to be my deputy. When I am away, and I will have to go to the Lords sometimes, you will be in charge from the end of lessons throughout the night. There will be other young masters in residence, I'm only having my own choice of staff living in, but you will be the boss. If there are any crises, you will have to deal with them. And, on the whole, I think I would prefer it if you did so without involving Luke Rampton. I want the school to become first class at games. That means that you and one or two others are going to have to train the boys a great deal. And you won't escape with only light teaching duties. Between you and me, the main history master is pretty hopeless. I'm going to rely on you to bring the standards a lot higher than they are now. So, you see, it is really a bit like slave labour."
Timothy laughed. "It sounds like heaven to me. If I'd stayed where I am now it would have taken more than ten years just to begin to get close to having that sort of responsibility." He paused and thought for a moment. "I just wonder, though, whether you aren't going to find that you need someone older around to cope with disciplinary problems at night. I am only 21 you know."
"So what? So am I. Look, I saw you with my brothers. You have a natural rapport with children. You won't have any problems. The boys will adore you. They'll do whatever you tell them. I promise you. Obviously they'll get a bit rowdy sometimes. We all did at that age. But there won't be anything that you can't sort out with a cane or gym shoe."
"You mean you'll trust me to give corporal punishment?". Timothy had been to a rather progressive grammar school where physical punishment had only been given, and then only occasionally, by the ageing headmaster. He was amazed to be told that, at his tender years, he might be expected to beat boys.
"Of course I will. I'd have much more faith in you than I would in any of those elderly masters we've inherited. I got the impression that they have two problems in that area. One, they resort to the cane or gym shoe much too easily. Two, when they do it they are so bored about it that the boy concerned probably doesn't even know he's been punished. No, you will be fine. I know you won't beat for the slightest offence, but I can be pretty sure that your right arm is strong enough to do the job properly when it has to be done."
Rupert's next candidate was a bit of a long shot. You may remember reading about a boy called Jonathan Trench in the first instalment of this saga. He was, at the time, the fourteen year old whom Rupert had been so keen to cane when he had been head boy at his public school. Rupert had kept in touch with his old school and he knew that Jonathan had done an extra term, to do Oxbridge exams, and would therefore have only just left. He also knew that Jonathan had been head boy. That had not surprised him at all. The boy had shown remarkable promise as a junior and his character had clearly been such that he was unlikely to degenerate over the years. Of course, it was possible that he might have arranged some exotic gap year abroad, but there must surely, Rupert thought, be a chance that he made no commitment yet. It took just one telephone call to find the Trenches' telephone number. Rupert crossed his fingers and rang it. He was in luck. Jonathan was there and, though rather surprised, happily accepted Rupert's invitation to Framley for the next weekend.
A similar presentation was arranged for Jonathan. The dinner with Lucinda had gone perfectly. I should, in parenthesis, explain that Rupert's reason for using Lucinda was that her presence would enable him to satisfy himself that the candidates for residential posts at the school would not be the sort who might have an unnatural interest in young boys. Jonathan, who could hardly keep his eyes off Lucinda all evening, easily passed the test. The tour of the games pitches had impressed Jonathan as much as it had Timothy. Then there came the lunch with James and Richard.
There was a slight hiccough in that part of the proceedings. The boys duly arrived, having made the fifteen mile journey on their bicycles. There was about half an hour to go before lunch. Rupert had intended to set up a game of tennis to be played by him, his brothers and Jonathan. But, within minutes of arriving, Richard, who was now 11, took Rupert aside and whispered into his ear.
"Rupes, I'm really sorry about this, but mama wants you to punish me."
"That's all I need. What have you done?"
"It's bad I'm afraid. I took papa's old shotgun out into the woods this morning. I had a couple of pot shots at some pheasant. Bill saw me." Bill was the gamekeeper. Shooting pheasant, other than on properly organised shoots, was a major crime in the Truman family.
"You idiot. OK, let's nip up to my study and do it there. Just think, you'll be the first boy to be whacked there."
Richard attempted a grin, but he was all too familiar with his brother's slippering abilities and it was not easy.
"Um", Richard stuttered and looked around obviously taking in Jonathan's presence, "I've brought the shoe in my saddle bag. Do I have to get it?"
Rupert immediately grasped his brother's concern. It would obviously be embarrassing for the boy to be seen going up to his brother's study carrying one large gym shoe. It would not take a genius to work out the likely use to which the shoe was to be put.
"It's OK Dick, my study's fully equipped."
"Thanks Rupes, you're a star".
Rupert returned to Jonathan. "Just a little family business I need to discuss with Richard. Why don't you and James go out and start. If you haven't got tennis shorts there's a pair in the tennis changing block that should fit. James, you can show Jonathan can't you?"
James obviously knew what the "family business" was. He mouthed "good luck" at his younger brother and guided Jonathan out to the tennis courts.
Once in the study, door firmly closed behind them, Rupert went to a large cupboard against the wall on the right. He opened it wide and Richard looked in. To his horror, the first thing that caught his eye was a shelf on which were placed four school canes. You must remember that he was only eleven. He was a fit, strong boy, but he was also of slight build. He was conscious that his bottom, while being firm and muscular, could hardly be described as being large. There was a marked absence of the fat which some larger boys had and which, Richard suspected, provided excellent padding when it came to punishment. Boys of his age were very occasionally caned at his prep school, but he had never had more than the gym shoe. He obviously knew that he would experience the cane before too long. But the idea that it might be administered by his brother, here and now, was a dreadful shock.
But it only lasted a moment. To Richard's immense relief, Rupert's hand did not go to that shelf. It rose to one higher and took hold of a large black gym shoe.
"Blimey Rupes", Richard said as he began to undo his jeans, "for one minute I thought you were going to swish me".
"Well, you might well deserve it, but you know that's not how we do things at home."
Richard had pulled his rather tight jeans down to his ankles and was now pulling down his underpants. He waited for Rupert to take a seat, so that he could position himself over his brother's knee. But Rupert had more to say.
"There's something you ought to know Dick", he began.
"What's that?" Richard was one of those sensible boys who, once they know they are to be thrashed, want to get the whole thing over and done with. He was hoping that this lecture would not be too long.
"Well, when I was 11 I did exactly the same as you. You were far too young to know about it. But it does mean that I know exactly what papa would have done to you. You know how we've always agreed that punishments should be the ones papa would have given?"
"Yes", said Richard nervously.
"Well, look I'm really sorry about this, but he gave me six."
Richard grimaced. He had never had more than four with the gym shoe and that had been pretty bad. Six would, he realised, be agony on a scale hardly to be imagined. But he was a brave and honourable lad. He guessed that, by pleading, he might be able to persuade his soft-hearted brother to reduce the penalty. But there was a better side of him which knew that that would be dishonourable. Long ago, he, James and Rupert had come to the agreement that punishments should be those which would have been applied by their father. He was not going to break that agreement now.
"Ok", he mumbled.
"There's more I'm afraid". Richard could not imagine how this could get worse. "Papa said that I'd been so naughty that I had to bend over his desk, rather than get over his knee. He said that would give him more room to swing."
Richard gulped. Rupert's normal slipperings were easily on a par with the worst he got at school. He had often thought that, if Rupert did it the same way they did at school, the pain would be even worse. Indeed, when he had, in the past, carefully positioned himself on Rupert's lap, he had sometimes consoled himself with the thought that at least it wouldn't be as bad as bending over like he had to at school. And now, that was precisely what he was going to have to do.
He drew in his breath and, once again, muttered the one word: "ok". Then, without more ado, he walked to the desk and bent over it. It was quite high, and he had to stand on tiptoes to get properly positioned, but the target his bottom presented was ideal.
Rupert looked at the slim, firm, and so young buttocks with genuine regret. He knew that, later, when it was all over, he would derive some pleasure from remembering what he was about to do. But, at that moment, he would have given anything to get out of it. It could not be. He was a young man who took duty extremely seriously. His duty to his tenants, his staff and even (in his capacity as a member of the House of Lords) to his country were of immense importance to him. But his greatest duty was to his own family. And there could be no doubt that that required that he thrash his young brother harder than he had ever been thrashed before. He stepped slowly forward and tapped the heavy rubber sole on the waiting bottom. He detected a shudder of anticipation from Richard. The bottom tensed. He pulled the slipper as far back as he could and then slammed it, with maximum force, onto the small round mounds. He doubted whether Richard had ever had a single stroke which was as hard as that one, but there were five more to come. The boy had almost lost his footing at the moment of impact, but he somehow managed to stay in place. Rupert thought he heard a tiny, and obviously involuntary, gasp of pain. He now wanted to get the whole thing over as soon as was humanly practicable. It was funny, he thought, when beating other boys he had always prided himself on his professional use of long pauses between strokes. But that had never been easy with his own flesh and blood. He was certainly not going to do it now.
The whole punishment was over in about six seconds. Richard, with amazing courage, had succeeded in stifling his desire to cry out or jump down. His bottom was now the deepest crimson colour. It felt as hot as fire. It was stinging more than ever before. He blinked more furiously than he had had to after any other punishment, to stop the watering of his eyes turning into tears. He clutched each cheek of his buttocks in a gesture of extreme agony. But it was over.
Rupert threw the shoe onto the desk, almost in disgust at what he had done and, almost in the same movement, gathered his small brother into his arms. He gave Richard what could only be described as a bear hug. Richard himself managed to release his hands from his throbbing bottom and hug Rupert in return. Neither said a word for more than a minute. Then, Rupert managed to compose himself and, in a slightly strained voice, spoke.
"Oh Dick, please never ever make me do that again. I hated it more than anything I have ever done. And you know I'm not cross with you, don't you? I just had to do it because it's what papa would have wanted. And he would only have wanted it because he loved you so much." Rupert knew he had to stop talking like this. He could already feel tears running down his cheeks and he could feel the wetness of Richard's tears soaking into his shirt. He knew that his brother was not crying because of the pain. This had happened before. Hardly ever did a Truman show emotion like this, but the three brothers loved each other with such an intensity that there had inevitably been moments when their feelings had overflowed. He released his grip on the eleven year old and brushed his face with his shirt sleeve. Richard did the same, and then bent to pull up his underpants and jeans. As he was doing so he, too, spoke from his heart.
"I know Rupes. I know how much papa loved us and I know how much you love us too. You said you did it because papa would have wanted it. But that's not everything. I know you did it out of your own love. It's not easy to say things like this after a whacking like that but, well, I mean, well ... thank you Rupes".
Rupert turned back to the desk, hiding the new tears forming in his eyes. He coughed and tried to speak in a more hearty, matter of fact tone, with only a little success.
"Well, it's done now. Come on, let's go and have some fun. Will you play with me against James and Jonathan? I bet we thrash them."
Richard also knew that the time for emotion had passed. Gulping a little as he did up his jeans again, he expressed his eager to desire to thrash his brother and Rupert's friend at tennis and they made their way out of the room and down the stairs.
Jonathan and James were already playing. Rupert paused, before going into the changing block, to see how it was going. It only took a moment to realise that James had formed an instant affection for his tennis opponent. And he was delighted to see that Jonathan was giving helpful playing tips to James without ever suggesting that the boy was not already a first class player. "Trench is my man", he said to himself as he joined Richard in the changing block.
Richard was looking worried.
"Rupes", he said as his brother came in, "I know this sounds silly, but do you think I could change after the rest of you when we've finished? It's just that my bum makes it pretty obvious what we were doing and it would be a bit embarrassing if he saw it."
Rupert smiled. "Of course you can if you want. But I shouldn't worry about Jonathan. Can you keep a secret?"
"You know I can".
"Ok, well, when he was fourteen and I was head boy I gave him a swishing that would have hurt rather a lot more than what you've just had. So I don't think he'd be shocked by seeing your bum. Anyway, see how you feel at the end of the game. If you want me to think of something for you to do while we are changing, just give me a thumbs down sign. If you don't mind Jonathan knowing, give me a thumbs up sign."
Richard smiled his gratitude to his brother. He was pretty sure, despite the reassuring tale of Jonathan's swishing, that he would be giving a thumbs down sign. After all, Jonathan was pretty ancient. He was as old as some of the junior masters at school.
Rupert was not intending to place any great reliance on this little test. But he did rather hope that Richard, having spent half an hour in Jonathan's company, might offer a thumbs up sign.
The game was hard fought. Rupert had announced that he, as the oldest, would play with Richard, the youngest, and that Jonathan and James would be their opponents. They only had time for one set, but it was as close as could be. Jonathan was serving at 5-6. There had been four deuces already. The game score was advantage to Rupert and Richard. Richard was receiving. The first serve went long. The second, still pretty fast (Rupert had been pleased to see that Jonathan was not giving points away to Richard), was just in. Somehow Richard got to it. His return may have had more to do with luck than skill, but it went straight down the line, bouncing just inside the baseline. Jonathan turned and looked at where the ball had hit the ground. Then he turned back to face his opponents.
"I say Rupert. I call it cheating to choose a future Wimbledon champion as your partner without letting on how brilliant he is." His smile was broad as he leapt forward, hand outstretched, and gripped Richard's hand. "Well done young man. Your partner would never have won with anyone else as his partner." But he didn't forget James either. He turned to address him. "Sorry partner, I let you down there. You played absolutely brilliantly. Thank you for making it such a close match. Without you, I'd have been slaughtered 6-0."
Rupert looked at his watch. "Time to change for lunch", he announced. Then he looked questioningly at Richard.
The grin on the boy's face was wonderful to see. But the thumb on his right hand, pointing clearly to the sky, was all the confirmation Rupert needed.
Richard was slightly later into the changing block than the others, but only because he was winding up the net and collecting the balls. When he got in, the other three were already standing in the showers. Not for the first time, he marvelled at how James was developing so fast. His "kit" was obviously not so impressive as that of Rupert and Jonathan, but it wouldn't be long before it was. He sighed as he thought what an age it would be before he would be like them. But then he ripped off his clothes and, with no embarrassment about his "kit" or about his scarlet bottom, he joined his brothers and his new friend under the streaming water.
Jonathan, of course, could not help but see the obvious signs of a very recent thrashing on the eleven year old's bottom. The last thing he wanted to do was to cause any embarrassment, but saying nothing at all might anyway do that. Richard must have realised that he had seen. If he said nothing, the boy might think he was shocked that he had done something so bad as to deserve a beating. No, he had to say something.
"Gosh Richard, looks like you've come up against an expert there", he was pointing at the boy's bottom, "I can't remember my bum being that bad since your brother swished me when I was in the fourth form. Hope whatever you did to deserve it was worth it."
Richard smiled at him. "It certainly was an expert", he said, "Rupes is going to be a demon of a headmaster. And", he turned to James who would immediately grasp the significance of this, "not only did he give me six but I had to drop my trousers and pants and bend over his desk."
"What he's not telling you", Rupert intervened, "is that he took it better than most boys two or three years older would have done."
"Well done kiddo", this was James, "most Rupes ever gave me was six, but that was over his knee and my bum wasn't nearly as impressive as that."
The visit to the pub on Sunday wasn't necessary, although it took place anyway. Over lunch Rupert raised the subject of Jonathan's plans for his gap year. It turned out that the "gap" was to be rather longer. He had arranged to go up to Oxford, not in that September, but in the following year's. He had failed to arrange anything to do with his time off and so had thought he had better have more time, to give him leeway while he made his plans. Rupert pounced.
"Ok, I've got the answer. Try your hand at being a prep school master. There's a place for you here if you want it. You'd be brilliant at it. Wouldn't he boys?"
"Golly", said James, "I'd think I'd got to heaven if my prep had had a master like Jonathan".
"If Jonathan was a master here I'd just beg mama to send me here", this was Richard.
"You're not serious are you?" Jonathan asked. "I have absolutely no experience of teaching."
"I know that. But I've known you since you were thirteen and I reckon I'm not a bad judge of people. I know you were a very successful head boy. I am afraid I sounded Bilbo out on that", Bilbo was the nickname for their old headmaster. "You've got three As at A level. You've got a scholarship to Oxford. But above all you have a natural talent for getting on with boys. Answer me one question. What do you want to do when you come down from Oxford?"
I am afraid I have to report that Rupert asked that question because he knew the answer. "Bilbo" had told him.
"As it happens, I would like to go into teaching."
"There you are. A couple of years experience here would be perfect. And you'd get paid for it. Mind you, it'll be hard work. We are going to make this into the best prep school in England and the new chaps I'm bringing in will be the ones who have to do it. Tell you what I'll do. If we're both happy after a year, I'll give you a contract to pay you £750 a year while you are at Oxford and keep open a permanent place for you when you've finished. Oh, and the pay while you're here will be £2,500 a year all found, nothing to be docked for food or accommodation."
Jonathan almost reeled back in his chair at the thought of such wealth. But, to his great credit, it was not the money that decided him. Just like Timothy on the previous weekend, he had been bowled over by the magnificence of Rupert's project. To be in at the beginning of something like that would be just too good a thing to miss.
"You've convinced me" he said and gripped Rupert's proffered hand firmly.
"Bet you'll be a really hard swisher", James grinned at Jonathan.
"Well, I did do a bit of that sort of thing when I was head boy, but no one can compete with your brother."
Rupert had now got the kernel of his "new blood". To have two young masters whom he could trust implicitly in everything was more than he had imagined possible. He was not so concerned about the other two and, to save time, put the matter in the hands of Gabbitas and Thring, the educational agents. In fact, they came up trumps. Peter Harvey, who had just come down from Durham University, was an obvious star, and quite clearly ambitious to succeed in teaching. Charles Rainham had just left Eton, a public school, and had the same length of gap "year" as Jonathan. Rupert had been charmed by him in seconds, and, when he heard he head been captain of cricket, there was only one decision to be made. He was signed up on the spot.
There was only one thing outstanding. Rupert loved Lucinda as deeply and sincerely as any man had ever loved a woman. I daresay that right at the beginning, when he had only been thirteen, it had been the hormones rather than the heart at work. After all, what healthy thirteen year old boy would not have felt a thrill of excitement at seeing what he had seen on that day eight years before. He had never forgotten, and never would forget, the glimpse he had got of her small round bottom, pink already, awaiting another smack from her father. But many years had passed since then and no relationship can last for so long as theirs had done if it is based on such shaky foundations. No, what may originally have been childish lust had become adult love. And Rupert had no doubt whatsoever that there would never be another girl whom he could even think of marrying. The time had come to persuade her, and he was determined to succeed before the start of the new term at Lexton School. He was sure that there would be no opposition from his mother. He knew she already loved Lucinda as a daughter, and she was the opposite of a snob. She was be a dowager countess and the daughter of a duke. Her oldest son, a 12th earl, was a loved Godson to the Queen. But, if he wanted to marry the daughter of a solicitor, then that was fine by her. Just so long as they loved each other. And Rupert knew that his mother was confident of that. No, the real problem was going to be Lucinda herself. He was sure she loved him, but he knew that she was terrified of the enormity of becoming a countess, and wife to one of England's richest men. This task would need all his powers of advocacy. But he would not be happy until he had succeeded.
AUTHOR'S NOTE
I have missed your emails. I fear that that I am not getting them because you don't like my recent stories. Please tell me what is wrong with them, so that I can mend my ways.