At last the weeks of feverish preparation were over. It was the evening before the beginning of the Easter term. Rupert was wandering around Framley Hall marvelling at how much had been achieved in such a short time. Before Christmas the Hall had looked like what it was: a minor stately home of a member of the aristocracy. Now, but for the incredible cleanness of the place, any visitor would have assumed that it was, and always had been, a boarding school for a hundred or so boys. The classrooms looked like classrooms. The dormitories looked like dormitories. The gym looked like a gym, and so on. Of course, there was still an aura of grandeur about the building, but it was undoubtedly a school. And one, what is more, which was not missing any of the essential equipment required for educating prep school boys. From the canes in Rupert's study and the masters' common room to the industrial sized kitchen in the basement, everything was there. And, on the following morning, the last ingredient would be added with the arrival of ninety nine boys between the ages of eight and thirteen.
Rupert would have liked the round figure of one hundred, but that, it seemed was not to be, yet. If all went according to plan, however, it would not be that long before parents would be hammering at the doors to try to get their sons into the school. But things did have to go according to plan. Rupert was well aware that there would be bound to be scope for disasters. Although he remained totally convinced of the wisdom of his decision to place great reliance on young masters who had never taught before, or only taught for a brief time, he knew perfectly well that there would be times when their lack of experience would count against them. But he remained confident. And he was right to be so. If he could not pull this thing off, no one could. And he was absolutely determined that it was going to be a real success.
Rupert's mother and brothers were coming to dinner on that auspicious day. It would just be them, Lucinda and himself. A quiet family celebration. Lucinda had insisted on cooking the meal, despite the fact that she had procured the services of a first rate cook for the school who had volunteered to prepare the dinner. Rupert smiled to himself as he thought of her continued efforts to lead as ordinary a life as she could. How lucky he was, he thought, to have found a girl who actually disliked the glamour of marriage to a 12th Earl of immense fortune. So many other girls would have been dazzled by that glamour and would, he was sure, have ended up being gravely disappointed by the reality. Lucinda was going into all this with her eyes wide open. What an enormous blessing that was.
The Dowager Countess's Rolls Royce drew up at the front entrance at 7.30 on the dot. She, and her two younger sons, made their way up the steps to the doors and pulled the bell chain. A few moments later, the great doors swung open and Rupert and Lucinda (not a butler in sight) greeted their guests. Richard seemed surprisingly subdued, but James and his mother were beaming happily. Kisses were exchanged and they made for the imposing central staircase.
"Let's have a drink in the drawing room first", said Rupert, "then you can have a tour of the school before dinner."
"How lovely darling", said his mother, "but do you think I could have a word alone with you first?"
"Of course Mama, Lucinda, why don't you take the boys to the drawing room while Mama and I have a chat in my study?"
"Gosh darling", Lady Guildford shuddered as she and her older son went into the study, "it's simply terrifying to be in a headmaster's study. Those poor boys."
"I don't think I'm that much of an ogre Mama"
"Of course you're not, but it still must be horrid to be an eleven year old boy waiting to come in here. You won't be desperately beastly to them will you?"
"Not unless I really have to be. But, anyway, what's this secret chat you want to have?"
"It's Richard darling. He's due to go back to Summerfields the day after tomorrow and he's been going on at me for weeks to be allowed to come here instead. I've been saying that's not possible, because it would be such a disruption to his education to change horses half way through. But he just won't take no for an answer. Honestly darling, he was being such a pest yesterday that I almost sent him over to you to deal with. I was trying to listen to Mrs Dale's Diary on the wireless and he just wouldn't let me. It was maddening darling. But I didn't want this little chat in order to moan about him. The opposite really. I've been thinking that maybe he's got a point. After all, if everyone sees that you are confident enough about all this to have your own brother in the school, that can only help, can't it?"
Rupert had been secretly thinking exactly the same thing. But, although he paid his brothers' school fees, he had always made it a firm rule that he would not interfere in his mother's decisions about their education. For that reason he had never said a word about his willingness (eagerness would be a more accurate word) to have Richard enrolled in the school.
"Oh Mama, it would just be wonderful to have Richard here. Would you really consider it? I ought to say that he wouldn't get any special treatment, but I honestly think we can do as well for him as Summerfields. And I would just love to have him around the place."
Lady Guildford smiled at her son's delighted reaction to her suggestion. "The only thing is", she said, "it would mean having to pay a term's fees to Summerfields in lieu of notice, and buying a whole new uniform. I'd quite understand if you decided to put it off until the Autumn."
"Nonsense mama, the expense would be worth it. And, anyway, I think I could almost bring myself to waive his fees here, so there would be a saving."
"Very well darling, if you are happy so am I. I suppose I should make a formal application to you."
"Well, I would have to interview the boy of course, before I finally decided. Perhaps you might join the others in the drawing room and ask Richard to come here?"
"Good idea darling. Oh, by the way, he doesn't know that I was thinking of doing this. All I told him was that I was going to tell you what a pest he's been. It'll be a lovely surprise for him. But I won't let on. You can tell him."
Lady Guildford went off to the drawing room, leaving Rupert smiling broadly at the realisation that he would be starting the term with a hundred boys.
If anything, Richard was looking even glummer when his mother came in. He was conscious that he might well have been going too far in his nagging of her, and he knew that there was nothing that made Rupert crosser than him or James upsetting their mother. He was fearing the worst, and he was not particularly reassured by the instruction he was now given.
"Richard darling", said Lady Guildford, "Rupert would like to see you in his study".
You might have thought that the word "darling" would indicate to Richard that the interview he was about to have with his brother would not be unpleasant. But it did not. Whenever his mother had decided, in the past, that her youngest son required correction from her oldest, she had always addressed the boy as darling. So it was with a heavy heart that Richard made his way to Rupert's study. When he got there he paused, while he gently rubbed his bottom, before raising his hand and knocking on the door.
He was summoned in. Rupert was sitting behind his large desk trying, and pretty well succeeding, to look as fierce as he could. The chair which was normally placed in front of the desk for visitors had been moved to the wall. So Richard walked forwards and stood in front of the desk looking down at his shoes and hoping that his heart beat was not sounding too deafening.
"Well Richard, have you any idea why I want to see you?"
"Yes, Rupes", the younger boy muttered, "it's because I've been a pest to Mama." Suddenly he plucked up courage to say what he really thought. "But it's so unfair. All I've been saying is I want to come to your school cos it's obviously going to be so good. Maybe I went a bit far once or twice and perhaps I ought to be slippered for that, but I still think I should be allowed to come here and whacking me isn't going to change that."
Rupert did his best to continue looking cross.
"But just think about it Richard, if you came here there would almost certainly be times when I had to cane you, not just give you a few taps with the slipper".
Richard would not have described any of the punishments he had received from his brother as "a few taps", but he wasn't going to argue about that now.
"But we get swished at Summerfields. I can't see any difference in getting swished here. That would be a silly reason for not letting me come."
"Now you're being cheeky to me. If you think that you can cheek your headmaster just because he is also your brother, you've got another think coming my boy."
"Well you're not my headmaster. That's what I'm complaining about. If you were and I cheeked you, you could give me a jolly good swishing. But I wouldn't cos I know it would be wrong."
"I'm glad to hear it. It's a bit of a pity that you don't show your own mother that much respect, isn't it? Tell me, did she enjoy her regular fix of Mrs Dale's Diary yesterday evening?"
Richard looked down at his shoes again as he remembered how annoyed his mother must have been with him.
"Well I s'pose you've got a point there. Ok, I don't want to spoil everything for you tonight. Let's just get it over with and get on with the party", as he spoke he started to undo his belt in preparation for what he assumed to be inevitable.
"Hang on Richard. No need to rush things. Shall I tell you why I really wanted to see you?"
Richard looked up, surprised that there might be any other reason, and also slightly nervous that some other misdemeanour might have been discovered. "What else could there be?"
"The thing is", Rupert replied slowly, "that I have a rule in this school that no new boy can be admitted without being interviewed by me first. Well, I can't start breaking rules for my own brother. That would be very weak. As it happens, Mama has asked me whether we could fit you into the school starting this term. So what I need to know from you is why you think you should be admitted."
Richard's mouth gaped open in surprise. He stared at his brother for a few seconds, quite unable to speak. But, as the import of Rupert's words sunk in, the widest grin imaginable spread across his face.
"Rupes, did you say what I think you said? Has Mama decided to send me here?"
"She has decided to apply for a place for you. It's up to me to decide whether you should actually have one. Before I make up my mind, you are going to have to answer some questions."
"Fire away. I'll answer anything you like."
"First, do you understand that you will have to call me sir and I will have to call you Truman during term time?"
"Obviously."
"Good, next, do you understand that if, perhaps I should say 'when', you get in trouble your prospects of being let off unpunished will be absolutely negligible? Think about that one Richard, because it's a serious point. If any of the other boys ever got the slightest hint that you were being given special treatment because you were my brother, that would be disastrous for both of us. So that means that if it's a borderline decision as to whether to punish you or let you off, you will be punished every time."
Richard did not hesitate in his reply. "That's exactly what I'd expect."
"Excellent. Now, the last question. I saw last term's report from Summerfields and I was not pleased with it. The words 'could try harder' seemed to appear under every subject. When Mama showed it to me my first instinct was to thrash you. It was only because Mama persuaded me that you should have another chance that I did not follow that instinct. I want you to give me your word of honour that you will apply yourself to your studies here in a way which seems to have eluded you at Summerfields. And I can assure you that if I find out you have been slacking you will have a very sore backside."
Richard looked a little sheepish about that. He had seen his report the day it arrived, before it had been shown to Rupert. It had not come as any great surprise to him, because he knew it was deserved. He had also been absolutely convinced that he would be across his brother's knee within minutes of Rupert reading it. When that had not happened, he had not believed his luck, but he had also secretly resolved to work a lot harder at school. So he was being entirely honest when he answered.
"I promise Rupes. I'm really going to work hard next term, whatever school I'm at. I know I was really bad last term and I probably deserved the slipper for my report. But I am determined to pull my socks up now, and if I come here I'll work harder than any other boy at the school."
Rupert smiled as he contemplated the thought of his mischievous brother working harder than everyone else. "Well, it would be nice if you worked harder than all the other boys, but I'm not going to set you such a high standard as that. What I expect of you is that you will do all your work thoroughly and on time. That will be enough for me. So, shall we go and tell the others that you have just been enrolled as the one hundredth boy at Framley?" Rupert, I should say, had already taken to calling the school by the name of his house.
Richard grinned, almost manically, at having got his way. He turned to the door, but then suddenly turned back to his brother.
"Um, I don't really want to say this, but doesn't Mama want you to whack me for being such a menace to her?".
Richard smiled. "No, she doesn't and nor do I. If you hadn't been such a pest I wouldn't have a hundred boys starting school tomorrow. But don't think that gives you an excuse to do it again."
The Richard who came back to the drawing room could have been a different boy from the one who had left it. He charged in, still grinning wildly, and through his arms around his mother.
"Oh Mama, you are just the best mother in the world. Thank you, thank you, thank you. I'm going to be so good from now on and I'll do all the chores you ever give me and I'm going to work so hard I'll get the top scholarship to Eton."
Lucinda was looking somewhat perplexed by this demonstration. Lady Guildford had given no intimation to her or to James as to the true purpose of her interview with Rupert and she, like James, had assumed that Richard's summons to the study was for disciplinary measures to be taken. She looked up at Rupert.
"Do the rest of us get an explanation for Richard's elation?"
"For some reason which I can't fathom, he is extremely excited because his mother has decided to move him from Summerfields to here. Her reason, I assume, is her belief that Summerfields has not been sufficiently strict with him."
Lucinda was as delighted as her fiancé with the news.
"Oh darling, that is just wonderful. Now you've got a hundred boys."
James grinned and, addressing his younger brother, said "wow, you lucky bum. You'll have Lucinda for matron and Jonathan teaching you. It'll be like one long holiday."
"Well", said Rupert, "we'll see about that. But one thing I can be pretty sure of is that Richard's bum is not going to be the luckiest part of his body, unless he bucks his ideas up quite a bit." But he said it with a smile.
The tour of the school and dinner followed. Rupert did have to be mildly rebuked by his mother for talking quite as much as he did about all his plans. But the family was as happy as the day on which Rupert and Lucinda became engaged.
After dinner Rupert invited the new masters and under-matrons to come up and join them. They had had, he couldn't help thinking, but not saying, the distinct advantage of having dinner cooked for them by the new cook. Richard was sent down to the masters' dining room to get them.
The boy was still in that wonderful state of excitement when one wants to tell everyone one's good news. He was delighted to have another audience and rushed happily downstairs.
Timothy Jackson, Jonathan Trench, Peter Harvey and Charles Rainham were dining with Katie Stanner and Miranda Browne, the two new under-matrons recruited by Lucinda to help with her duties as matron. The girls were both eighteen and both exceptionally pretty. Katie was a brunette, Miranda a blonde. Both were slim and tall, without being too tall. Both, as was immediately apparent on meeting them, were vivacious and naturally intelligent.
When interviewing applicants for the posts, Lucinda had been particularly struck by the fact that both Katie and Miranda had younger brothers. Katie's, who was eleven, was at prep school, Miranda's, who was fourteen, was in his second year at public school. In both interviews, the information had been revealed when Lucinda had raised the sensitive subject of the girls' likely reaction to the harsher disciplinary regime in a boys' school than that in girls' schools. Her concern was that young girls, being exposed for the first time to the masculine world of a boys' prep school, might be upset by the punishments meted out to their charges. Katie had been the first to be interviewed. When this topic was raised she had answered immediately, with a smile.
"Oh that wouldn't worry me. I've got an eleven year old brother. If I had to count the number of times I've heard him boasting about the whackings he gets at school it would take me for ever. So long as the younger boys don't get punished too severely, it'll be fine by me."
Lucinda had immediately reassured her on that point.
"Well, they used to, but now Rupert is in charge things are going to be different. He won't rule out using a cane on eight and nine year olds, but he's told me that he thinks it very unlikely that he ever will. In fact, and this is another point you might not be happy with, he wants me and the under-matrons to take on the main responsibility for punishing them. That means that one of your occasional duties would be to whack boys, but not with an implement. You would just spank them, like a home punishment. Would that be a problem?"
Katie had thought for a moment before answering. She had certainly not contemplated the idea of actually administering corporal punishment to boys, but she could immediately see the sense of it.
"No", she said after a few seconds, "I wouldn't like it, but if a boy needs to be punished like that, and I know from my own brother that they sometimes do, I think I would rather it was me doing it than some great brawny master with a slipper."
Miranda had given very similar answers. Her brother, like Katie's (and also, it has to be pointed out, like 99% of all public school boys of his age) was fond of boasting about his punishments at school. She also mentioned, with a delightful grin, that, when she had been younger, she had been far from exempt from the odd "smacked bottom".
Anyway, the four young masters had just eaten their first meal with their new female colleagues and all were completely smitten. The girls too, though inevitably nervous on their first day in new surroundings, had been delighted to discover how pleasant and attractive the young masters were. By the time Richard appeared the six of them were chatting together as though they had known each for years. So immersed were they in their conversation that none heard Richard's insistent knocking on the door. In the end he opened it and put his head round the door.
"Sorry, but I did knock", he said.
"No need to knock Richard", said Timothy, "come in, it's good to see you. Have you met everyone?"
Richard had been told all about Katie and Miranda, but he had not yet met them.
"Um, I haven't met Miss um ...". He knew they were called Katie and Miranda, but had forgotten their surnames and, in his new capacity as a pupil at the school he doubted whether it would appropriate to use Christian names. Jonathan came to his rescue.
"This is Katie Stanner and this is Miranda Browne. Girls, this is Richard Truman, Rupert's brother and an absolutely ace tennis player".
Richard blushed at this introduction, but rushed on to impart his news.
"Hey, you'll never guess, this is just the fabbest thing ever. Mama's taking me away from Summerfields and sending me here. So I'll be one of your pupils as from tomorrow."
"That's wonderful Richard", said Timothy, "I expect you'll be a bit of a handful for us poor staff, but I'm sure we'll have some fun".
"I just know we will", said Richard, "Rupes is going to be pretty strict with me, but I expect I need that and there's going to be so many fab things going on here. It's going to be the best prep in England. Anyway, I've been sent to ask whether you would all mind coming up to the drawing room to have after dinner drinks with us."
The party of young masters and under-matrons had no hesitation accepting the invitation and all went upstairs with Richard.
By 10.30 Lady Guildford was eager to return home, and even more eager to get Richard to bed before his big day. He would not have to arrive at the school until the afternoon, but some urgent uniform shopping would have to be done in Guildford in the morning. The two boys and their mother said their goodbyes and left Rupert, Lucinda and the others to make their final preparations for the boys' arrival next day.
It had already been agreed that Rupert, Jonathan and Miranda would go to Guildford Station, in a hired coach, to meet the London train. The others would remain at the Hall to greet boys being brought by their parents. Rupert had told the living out masters (including his joint headmaster) that he was entirely happy for them to take the day off and only start their duties on the day after, when lessons would begin. None had complained about getting another day's holiday. There wasn't, in fact, any more to be done that night.
Rupert, however, did want to impress on his staff the importance of ensuring that Richard was not given any special treatment because of his relationship with the headmaster.
"I must just say something about Richard. I must admit I had been secretly hoping that my mother would send him here. I'm probably biassed, but it seems to me he is just the sort of boy we want. He's absolutely fanatical about sports, and pretty good at most of them. He gets on with everyone. When he bothers to work, he can get some impressive results. But he is also naturally mischievous. I don't mind that in a boy. I was the same when I was his age. And I don't remember you, Jonathan, as having been a perfect angel. But what it means is that he is bound to get into some scrapes. When he does, I need to be absolutely sure that he gets no preferential treatment at all, from any of us. Never think that I will be in the least bit annoyed with you for punishing him. I'm much more likely to be annoyed if I hear that you've let him off, or given him fewer strokes than he deserves. I can think of nothing worse for him, for the school or, I have to say, for me, than its ever being suggested that he is treated better than other boys. I can tell you that he fully understands all this. I've warned him that, if anything, he is more likely to be punished than other boys committing the same offence. He entirely accepts that and I have absolutely no doubt that he would never dream of complaining to me of his treatment by any of you. I'm sure you see the sense of that, but I did think I ought to make my feelings clear."
None of the young masters was in the least bit surprised by Rupert's approach to this potential problem. But they were all relieved that it had been spelt out to them. They may have had little or no experience of teaching, but all were young enough to remember, from their own school days, how disastrous it was for a boy to be shown any favouritism by masters.
There was only one other matter to be finally decided by the time of the first meeting of the whole school on the following afternoon. It had always been the practice at Lexton, a practice of which Rupert fully approved, for all the sixth form boys to be prefects. But it had also been the practice for one of them to be selected as head boy. The occupant of that office in the previous term had been one of the very few boys to have been removed from the school because of his parents' concerns about Rupert's youth and inexperience. So the post was vacant. That did not displease Rupert. Employing all his diplomatic skills, he had managed to persuade Mr Rampton that the choice of head boy should be his, rather than the older man's. But he had fully understood the need to give the impression, at least, that his senior colleague's opinions would be of great benefit to him. Mr Rampton had named two possible candidates. A boy called Smith and one called Rutherford. Both, he had said, were admirably hard working and responsible boys. They had, he had intimated, absolutely none of the immaturity one would normally expect from boys of their age. Another virtue each apparently shared was a lack of interest in sports. That, according to Mr Rampton, would give them more time to concentrate on the serious duties of head boy.
You will not be surprised to learn that Rupert's immediate reaction to this list of attributes was to decide that neither Smith nor Rutherford should be appointed. They sounded worthy enough, but the chances of either of them being able to inspire ninety nine other prep school boys were, Rupert suspected, almost non-existent. A head boy had, in his opinion, to be something of a hero to the younger boys. Excelling at sport was not absolutely essential, but it would certainly help. Having a reputation for "maturity" probably meant, Rupert thought, that they would be goody-goodies. No ten year old boy can possibly hero worship a twelve or thirteen year old head boy who was hardly ever in trouble as a junior. So he listened politely and said he was most grateful for the advice. He then went back to the hall to seek out Lucinda. He had complete faith in her judgment, and she had the advantage of having spent a term with all the boys. So she would probably have a pretty good idea about whom the right candidate might be.
She answered instantly.
"Old Rampton will think you've gone mad, but the obvious candidate is Baxter."
"Tell me about him", Rupert had asked.
"Well, he's a tall good-looking boy. He was captain of rugby last term. He's bright. His results are good, but he isn't a bookworm. He's got a fairly advanced sense of mischief. As far as I could work out, it is relatively unusual for a sixth form boy to be caned, and he managed to get it twice last term. But I am sure that he is as honest as the day is long. I happen to know that he hates bullying. I overheard him talking to a fifth form boy whom he suspected of bullying a new boy. Talking is perhaps the wrong word. The threats he was making were absolutely blood-curdling. But they worked. He is immensely popular with the other boys, but Rampton will tell you that that is just because he's always getting in trouble. I don't think it is. I think they like him for the obvious reasons. You know, good at sports, good-looking, strong and all that. But they also like him because he is as straight and open as they come and because they know that he never uses his superior strength for his own advantage. Anyway, I think he'd be perfect as head boy. But Rampton would disagree with me completely."
Lucinda's description of Baxter was just what Rupert had wanted to hear, but he resolved not to make up his mind until he had actually met the boy. If a decision of his was to lead to his joint headmaster classifying him as insane, he wanted to make sure it was the right decision.
Rupert, Jonathan and Miranda arrived ten minutes early for the London train. Miranda, who was a local girl, spotted a friend on the platform and went to talk to him. Rupert and Jonathan walked up and down the platform going over, once again, the plans for the rest of the day. Finally, the train pulled into the station. Rupert looked into the windows to find the reserved carriage for the school. Just as it passed Miranda, still talking to her friend, he spotted it. But it was with mixed feelings that he did so. What had drawn his attention to the carriage was the sight of three boys in school uniform looking out of the windows, spotting Miranda, and instantly practising their wolf whistles. That, he said to himself, is not the behaviour of young gentlemen. On the other hand, his more mischievous side did prevent him getting too pompous about it. Miranda was, after all, a very attractive girl. Still, he couldn't have Framley boys dishonouring their uniform like that and he decided he would have to deal with the culprits later in the day.
As he watched the boys climbing down onto the platform and making their way towards the coach, Rupert was pleased with what he saw. Nearly all of them, as one would expect from post-war babies brought up on rationing which had only stopped about seven years previously, were slim and fit looking. Most seemed to be smiling cheerfully as they chatted to their friends. Their uniforms were neatly pressed, their shirts brilliantly white. A few shirt tails were, it is true, hanging out at the back. But that was only to be expected. The younger boys were in grey shorts and the older in long trousers. He hurried back to the coach, to which they were all headed, in order to greet them. One of the disadvantages (he normally thought) of being a wealthy and handsome young earl was that there was no shortage of photographs of him in the newspapers. That was an advantage now, at least to the boys, because every one of them recognised their new joint headmaster as he stood by the coach door. As they each filed past him they politely greeted him with a "good afternoon sir". He was pleased to note that the note of respect in their voices was not marred by any hint of fear. He decided not to say anything to the three wolf whistlers until he had got them on their own back at the school and he greeted them just as warmly as the others.
The afternoon was a hectic one. None of the boys, except of course for Richard, who was delivered to school by Jenkins the chauffeur (but in the old Rover rather than the Rolls), had ever set foot in the place before. It was essential, therefore, that there should be guided tours for everyone. All the resident staff played their part and small groups of boys were trooped around together. On top of that, of course, Rupert and Lucinda also had to be available to talk to anxious parents. Lucinda to hear from worrying mothers about little Johnny's minor ailments, and Rupert to reassure concerned fathers that Peter's Latin would certainly be brought up to scratch that term. Finally, however, the tours were over and the parents gone.
Rupert had decided that the boys should have high tea before he addressed them all. They all filed into the dining room, stood in silence for grace and then sat and continued their merry chat as they tasted, for the first time, the extraordinarily good food which the new cook had prepared. The masters and matrons were going to dine later, but all stayed in the room and wondered round introducing themselves to the boys. Towards the end of the meal, Rupert went to speak to the three wolf whistlers. One, a startlingly good-looking dark haired boy, was sitting on the sixth form table. The other two were on the fifth form table. His words to each were identical.
"Do you remember where my study is?".
Each answered "yes sir".
"I would be obliged if you would join me there straight after tea".
The three boys had no idea why they had been singled out for this treatment. No boy in the history of education has ever looked forward to a visit to his headmaster's study. These were no different. But, for the life of them, they just could not think what they might have done to deserve censure.
Rupert left the dining room a few minutes before grace and hurried up to his study. He still hadn't decided what to do. He was not inclined, on his very first day as headmaster, to inflict any severe punishment. But he did want them to understand that good manners were of the utmost importance. He decided to wait and see what they had to say for themselves.
Five minutes later he heard a knock at the door.
"Come in", he called out.
The three boys filed in. The older in front of the other two. The last, a fair haired rather athletic looking boy, closed the door. They shuffled forward and stood in line in front of the desk.
Rupert looked at them each in turn for a few seconds before speaking. As he could have predicted, his gaze led each to look down at his feet and shuffle uneasily.
Finally Rupert spoke.
"Time for introductions I think. What are your names?"
The older boy took the lead again.
"Baxter sir".
Rupert was not expecting that, although he instantly thought he should have been, from Lucinda's description.
The next boy, a tousle haired lad with freckles, said he was Hodge and the fair haired boy said he was Pearson.
"Very well", continued Rupert, "have any of you any idea why I have asked to see you?"
All slowly shook their heads as they desperately tried to think of a reason.
"Let me ask a question. Do you think it is ever appropriate for a boy wearing your uniforms to behave offensively, by wolf whistling, to an attractive young lady in a public place?"
At the same moment, all recalled their arrival at the station, the sight of the beautiful girl and their manner of conveying their appreciation. They also remembered the surprise they had felt when that same girl had joined them on the coach and been introduced as Miss Browne, one of the new under-matrons. But, until that moment, it had not occurred to them that they had been spotted and identified. Miranda had had her back to them at the moment of their transgression and, by the time she had looked round to see who was responsible, they had ducked down, out of her sight. None of them had noticed that any other member of staff was looking towards them. But they had obviously been seen. And now they were in trouble.
Baxter answered the question without hesitation.
"No sir. It wasn't appropriate and I'm very sorry I did it."
Taking his lead, Pearson then said he, too, was sorry.
It was Hodge who tried a plea in mitigation.
"I am very sorry too sir, but the thing was none of us knew that Miss Browne was on the school staff."
Pearson quickly added his voice to that plea.
"That's right sir, it wasn't till we got to the coach that we realised. We'd never have done it if we'd known."
Rupert glared at them. "Perhaps the three of you would like to think about that and tell me why it would be better if it had not been said".
Again, it was Baxter who answered and, again, he did so without hesitation.
"Because if anything, sir, it is even worse to be rude to members of the general public like that than it is to staff. At least they can punish us for it, but other people can't".
"Exactly Baxter".
Rupert now had to decide what to do. The fact that one of the culprits was Baxter made his decision more tricky. On the one hand, the boy's demeanour in this brief interview had convinced him that Lucinda's judgment had been correct. His natural inclination was to let him off with a rebuke. On the other hand, he would not want anyone to think that loutish behaviour of the sort he had witnessed would not only be unpunished, but could be immediately followed by promotion to the office of head boy. No, it was hard on the other two perhaps, but Baxter would have to be punished and they could obviously not be let off.
"This is the last thing I wanted to do on our first day together, but I am afraid you leave me no alternative. I am going to have to cane you. I will be as lenient as I can. Baxter, as a sixth form boy you should really know better, you will have three strokes. Pearson and Hodge, you will each have two. Pearson and Hodge stand by the door. Baxter stay there."
Rupert walked slowly towards the large cupboard, opened it and withdrew a long, thin and very whippy looking cane. He swished it through the air a couple of times, as if to test its suitability for the task. Then he turned to Baxter.
"Bend over please. You may grip your ankles, but you may not bend your knees."
Baxter did as he was instructed. Rupert stepped towards him and gently folded his jacket back to give a clear target. Then he stood back and appraised the thirteen year old's bottom. The grey trousers were stretched tight across it. He could see the outline of the firm, slim cheeks. The sight brought memories of that time, all those years ago, when he had beaten Jonathan Trench, at the age of 14, for being out of bounds at school. Baxter was as perfect as Jonathan had been. He took a deep breath, patted the cane a couple of times on the waiting bottom and then, in one movement, swung it right back and forward again. The silence in the room was broken only by the swish of the cane through the air and the loud crack as it hit Baxter's bottom, right across the middle. Pearson and Hodge both winced. Baxter dug his finger nails into his ankles to distract him from the pain in his buttocks. Rupert swung the cane back and forward again. The watching boys winced again. Baxter bit his lower lip. Rupert paused before the final stroke. Then he swung again. Baxter almost jumped this time as the cane slammed into him. The last stroke had been the hardest. The pain was intense. He blinked a few times and waited to be told to stand. He needed to hold his bottom with both hands to try to control the agony. But he knew he must wait. Then Rupert spoke.
"Thank you Baxter, you may stand. Pearson, take his place."
The twelve year old stepped forward and bent over. Rupert folded back his jacket and gazed down on another small and firm young bottom. He gave the two strokes quickly and highly competently. As with Baxter's, the last was harder than the first. Pearson stood and, just as Baxter had done before him, he rubbed his bottom furiously before joining Baxter to watch Hodge take his punishment
I suspect it is the same with boys the world over. Common sense dictates that a punishment should be got over and done with as soon as possible and yet, when two or more boys are to be beaten, it is a very untypical boy who is eager to be the first. I suppose it is natural. All boys would prefer to have a pain-free bottom for as long as possible. Hodge had felt like that. And yet, as he watched Baxter and Pearson take their canings, his own state of nervousness had increased dramatically. By the time he stepped forward to bend over he was wishing, with a passion, that he had been the first and not the last. He felt his legs shaking as he took up the required position, but managed to steady himself with a tight grip on his ankles. He felt his jacket being raised and the preparatory taps of the cane on his small bottom. He had been in this position before, but every time he felt the same terror. There was the obvious fear of the pain itself. But there was also the dread of not taking it like a man, especially with other boys watching. But, as always, he got through it. The first stroke had stung like crazy. The second had felt twice as hard. But it was soon over. His bottom was incredibly sore for a few minutes, but vigorous rubbing, and the knowledge that the pain would soon fade, made it bearable.
Rupert walked back to the cupboard and replaced the cane. Then he turned back to the boys.
"This incident is now over. As far as I am concerned, you all start the term with a clean slate. And I have total confidence that you will not let your uniform down again. And, by the way, Miss Browne is indeed a very pretty young lady. I didn't punish you for your taste in the fair _s_e_x_, just how you demonstrated it. And you may be relieved to know that I am not proposing to tell Miss Browne that I know who gave her the wolf whistles. If you choose to own up to her and apologise, all well and good. But that is up to you. Very well, Pearson and Hodge, off you go to show off your wounds. Baxter, I'm afraid I need to detain you for a moment or two."
Pearson and Hodge gratefully left, eager to boast of their achievement in having been caned on the very first day of term by the new joint headmaster, and to assure everyone that he was an exceptionally hard caner. Baxter remained, worried, once again, that there was some other offence yet to be dealt with.
"It's all right Baxter", Rupert immediately reassured him, "this is not unpleasant. I have been making extensive inquiries about the sixth form in order to decide whom should be appointed as the new head boy. Those inquiries have led me to conclude that I should offer the post to you. I hope you can see now why I could not let you off for what you did this afternoon".
Baxter was absolutely astounded. It had never occurred to him for a moment that he could conceivably be considered for the job. That was mostly, of course, because he was well aware that Mr Rampton did not approve of high-spirited boys and generally chose hard working goody-goodies for positions of responsibility. It took the boy a moment or two for what he had just been told to sink in. When it did, he could not help grinning widely as he thought of the honour he was being given.
"Wow sir", he said, "I mean. Well, that is just so brilliant. Sorry sir, but I just didn't think this could ever happen to me. So it's difficult to say the right things. But, well, thank you very much sir. And still making me head boy after I was so rude to Miss Browne. Gosh sir, I'm going to have to do this job really well."
"From what I have heard of you, you will. Remember, you are my eyes and ears. It's impossible for any master, let alone a headmaster, to know everything that's going on in a school this size. But I need to know if we are going to make this into the best prep school in the country. And that, Baxter, is what you and I are going to do together."
The boy almost glowed with pleasure at the manner in which his headmaster was expressing himself. "You and I", he had said. At that moment Baxter made the firmest resolution he had ever made in his life. He would do nothing, ever, to let Mr Truman down.
"Oh yes sir, I know your right. You are definitely going to make it the best school and I will do everything you want to help you."
"Excellent. Now, first things first, no school ever succeeded without being happy. And no school can be happy if there is any bullying going on. That is your most important job. Boys understandably never sneak to masters about these things, but you and your prefects will get to know of any bullying very quickly. It is never to be overlooked."
"You don't need to tell me that sir, I hate bullying more than anything in the world".
"Good, well what you have to do is to impress on your fellow prefects that bullying must never be tolerated. If you have reasonable grounds to believe any boy is bullying another, I must be told. If I am satisfied that your suspicion is correct, that boy will bitterly regret his actions. And I mean that. The caning I have just given you was like a mild spanking compared with what I can really do."
Baxter shuddered. "Crikey sir, I hope I never get to find out what you can really do. That one was bad enough."
"I'm sure you won't. I ought to say, you are not exempt from punishment just because you are head boy, but I can't see you doing the sort of thing that would lead me to give you a really severe beating. Now, the next thing I had better tell you is what my whole approach to discipline is. As I am afraid you have discovered, I have no worries about punishing a boy when I think he deserves it. But I hope that I will always be fair. In particular, I firmly intend never to give a more severe punishment than is merited by a boy's behaviour. One thing I feel quite strongly about is trying to ensure that the younger boys, I mean first and second forms, are not treated too harshly. With that in mind, I am instituting a new regime for them. Prefects will still be able to give them lines but, whenever you think more serious punishment is required, you will no longer send the boy concerned to a master. In the first instance, you will report him to Matron, or one of the under-matrons if she is not on duty. They will decide whether a master's involvement is necessary. In nearly every case, however, I suspect that they will feel able to deal with the matter themselves. They have authority to administer corporal punishment to boys of eight and nine, but not older. If and when they exercise that authority, they will do so by spanking. They will not use slipper or cane. In some cases they will consider that I or one of the other masters should administer the punishment. When that happens, we will have to decide between spanking, slippering and caning. I am telling you all this because I am fully aware that there will be sixth form boys who will take the line that, if they were caned as eight or nine year olds, they don't see why others shouldn't be also. They will no doubt say I am soft and that discipline will deteriorate under my control. Maybe you will agree with them. But it is right that you should understand that I am determined in this reform."
"Oh sir, I quite agree with you. I'm not saying I ever thought it was unfair when I got the slipper or cane at that age, but I do think that, mostly, boys as young as that don't need more than a spanking. After all, that's what they get at home and it works there, so I don't see why it shouldn't work here as well."
"It might help you to sell my ideas to your peers if you also tell them that punishments for boys of ten and over will continue to be given with slippers and canes. And those punishments will hurt a great deal." Rupert looked at his watch. "Well, the school should be in the gym waiting for us, let's go down and see them".
"Yes sir. Oh, by the way sir, I hope you don't mind, but I would like to apologise to Miss Browne for what I did. I won't sneak on the others, but I would feel better if I told her how sorry I am."
"That is very commendable of you. Between you and me, it is just possible that she may secretly have been a little pleased that you found her so attractive. But that does not mean that such behaviour will ever be tolerated again."
The meeting of the whole school went very well. Word had already spread that three boys had been caned, and caned very hard, by Mr Truman (Rupert remained determined not to use his title in the school). When he entered the room, followed by Baxter, all eyes had been on him and they were looking at him with even more respect than they had felt earlier.
Rupert's first announcement was of the appointment of Baxter as head boy. He was greatly relieved to see that it was apparent that the appointment was very popular. He went on to explain the division of responsibilities between him and Mr Rampton. But, beyond that, he did not attempt any complex description of any other reforms he was introducing. There would be time for that over the next few weeks. Instead, he ended with a passionate speech about his determination to see the school's sports performance improve immeasurably. Of course, there were one or two boys there whose interest in games was not great. But he had correctly calculated that the vast majority were just as passionate as he was on the subject. If he was to engender the sort of loyalty to the school which he knew to be essential, this was the right card to play. For too long, the boys had had to put up with a headmaster, in Mr Rampton, who did no more than tolerate sports. Now, at last, they had someone who really cared. As the boys filed out their opinion was unanimous. Mr Truman was a genius.
Baxter sought out Pearson and Hodge in order to tell him of his intention to apologise to Miranda. They both, immediately, said they had come to the same decision. The three boys set off to find her. She was in the junior dormitory, making sure all was ready for the youngest boys. Baxter acted as spokesman.
"Ma'am, can we have a word please?"
Miranda was still not used to being addressed in that way, but it had happened enough during the day for her accept that she, rather than some large middle-aged woman standing behind her, was being addressed.
"Yes, of course boys. How can I help?"
"Ma'am, we've come to apologise to you. When the train came in today and we saw you on the platform it was us who wolf whistled at you. It was very wrong of us and we wanted you to know we are really sorry. Mr Truman said we didn't have to own up to you if we didn't want to, but we thought we ought to."
Miranda smiled at the three guilty looking boys. "Well, I think it is very honourable of you to tell me all this, and I accept your apologies without hesitation. You shouldn't really have done it, because it is not gentlemanly. But you needn't worry, I wasn't offended and I am grateful, anyway, that you thought I was pretty enough to earn a wolf whistle."
The boys blushed slightly, but were relieved that she had taken it so well.
"I hope Mr Truman wasn't too hard on you".
"No, Ma'am, he wasn't", said Pearson, "we got a jolly good swishing, but we probably deserved more."
She smiled again, "well I hope you're not too sore now".
"Oh no Ma'am", said Baxter, "the pain never lasts that long. Anyway, we deserved it."
"That's not really for me to say, but what I can say is that I hope we can be the best of friends."
"Golly, of course Ma'am", said Hodge eagerly, "if you ever want me to do any jobs for you I'll drop everything to do them."
"Me too" echoed the other two.
Three very contended boys left the dormitory to seek out their friends and tell them what an "absolute corker" Miss Browne was.
The general opinion at bed time was that Baxter's, Pearson's and Hodge's stripes were first class.
Rupert and Lucinda finally got to eat at about 9.30. Rupert opened a bottle of Champagne before they sat down and they raised their glasses to toast "the best school in England". For a few moments they just sat staring into each other's eyes smiling happily at the success of the first day of their new lives. But then, ever eager to do better, Rupert started talking of yet more plans he had been dreaming up during the day.
In the masters' dining room the feeling of content with the day's proceedings was just as strong. The young men vied with each other for the honour of passing drinks and plates to Miranda and Katie. The girls were both thinking that they had arrived in some sort of heaven. There would, of course, be hard times ahead. But all thought that Rupert's ambition was one which could be achieved. And all wanted to help do that.
Baxter, I suppose, was the happiest person in the building that night. He had arrived at the school assuming that he would be treated as the most unimportant member of the sixth form. Now, not only was he head boy, but he was the friend of the prettiest girl he had ever seen in his life. True, he had been caned hard by Mr Truman, but he had deserved that, and he had never allowed a caning to get him down for more than a very short time. Now, as he lay back and thought of Miranda and, because such things still seemed to arouse him, of watching Pearson's and Hodge's canings, he quietly and slowly began to pump towards ecstasy.
AUTHOR'S NOTE
You are probably still feeling cheated, but the next instalment, which is already written, should have enough whacking to satisfy most of you. Do, please, continue to email me