The plans for the wedding were proceeding apace. The engagement was to be a short one. Rupert suspected, quite rightly, that some of the boys' parents would be a little concerned about the fact that their sons' headmaster was living under the same roof as his fiancé. He and Lucinda had taken enormous care never to be seen by the boys to be being too affectionate to each other. Since the boys had arrived they had also never once slept together. Indeed, so determined was Rupert not to give anyone an opportunity of accusing him of immorality, he had insisted to Lucinda that she should not enter his bedroom at all. Neither had he entered hers. The abstinence was not at all to his liking. He ached with desire for her. But he knew the risks of a scandal were too great. She, too, after that first wonderful night together, wanted nothing so much as to spend every night of the rest of her life in his bed. But she understood the reasons for waiting and tried her best to think only of what would be hers in the future, rather than of what she was missing now.
So there were very good reasons for the wedding to take place as soon as possible. Rupert's first thought was that it would be wonderful to have the wedding right at the beginning of the Easter holidays, but it only took him a moment to realise that that, being in Lent, would be impossible.. He did hope, however, that a date immediately after Easter could be found.
Fixing a date for the wedding of the Earl of Guildford was no easy task. It was not just a matter of choosing a day, ringing up the Vicar to book the church and hiring a marquee for the reception. To start with, the church, St Margaret's Westminster, was the official church of the Palace of Westminster. It was not available whenever the happy couple might want it. Similarly, when it came to the reception, which was to be in the House of Lords, only a very few dates were free. Inquiries were made and it was found that there were three possible dates, sadly none of them in the school holidays, which would suit both St Margaret's and the House of Lords. But it was not simply a matter of choosing one of those dates and sending out invitations.
When the engagement had been announced, the Queen, Rupert's Godmother, had been gracious enough to indicate that she would, if asked, be delighted to attend the wedding herself. Rupert understood very well that such an intimation from his sovereign should be treated as a command. That meant that the date had to be fixed in consultation with Buckingham Palace. As soon as he had got the three available dates from the church and the House of Lords, he rang the Queen's Private Office. None of the dates was perfect, he was told, but efforts would be made to re-arrange Her Majesty's diary and the Palace would be in touch again.
Several days passed. At last, the Queen's Private Secretary telephoned. Strenuous re-arrangements of Her Majesty's diary had been made and she would be able to manage Friday 14th April. The Duke of Edinburgh, the twelve year old Prince Charles and his ten year old sister Princess Anne would also be able to attend on that day.
Rupert immediately telephoned the Bishop of Guildford who confirmed that he would be able to officiate at the ceremony on that date. Now, the invitations could be sent out.
14th April would be the second day of the summer term. When he had first realised that the wedding would have to be in term time, Rupert had been upset, because of his desire to invite his new colleagues to the ceremony. But he had come up with a plan. He and Lucinda had agreed that it would be a nice touch to invite the whole school, boys as well as masters and under-matrons. A holiday from lessons would be proclaimed. Coaches would be laid on. Four boys from each year, chosen by ballot so as to ensure no accusations of favouritism, would form a guard of honour for the happy couple.
But it was still the Easter term. Though Lucinda, in particular, would have liked to spend more time on wedding preparations, she and Rupert still had a school to run. So most of the day to day work on the wedding had to be undertaken by her parents (a fact that gave her mother enormous pleasure).
There had been no major crises in the school yet. Indeed, everything seemed to be running remarkably smoothly. The commitment of the new young masters was already showing results in performances on the sports field. The continued programme of frenetic activity had led to the boys being remarkably happy and contended with their lot. Even in the classrooms things had been improving. The young masters had shown themselves to be just as good teachers as they were sports coaches. Many of the older masters had found the enthusiasm of their younger colleagues rubbing off on them. Standards were improving all the time.
That is not to say there were no hiccoughs. It is not possible for a hundred boys of prep school age to live in close proximity with each other without mischief rearing its head occasionally. But that is all it had been. And it had been dealt with promptly, fairly and justly. The resident masters had all had to do their fair share of whacking, with slippers, gym shoes and canes. But the regime was far from being unduly strict and all the boys considered themselves to be properly treated. The younger boys, in particular, had blossomed under the new rules. A few of them had had to be slippered. But, on the whole, the use of spanking as an alternative had been a remarkable success (even if Lucinda and her under-matrons occasionally complained that it was unfair that they had to suffer sore hands from smacking bottoms while the masters were able to use instruments).
But now, in the second half of the Easter term, a problem did arise. It concerned the role of Rupert's joint headmaster, Mr Rampton. In order to understand it, I am afraid I will have to describe how a boy got into trouble for quite a serious offence.
One evening, after the boys had all gone to bed, Jonathan Trench and Katie had decided to play a game of table tennis in the boys' games room. It had been a fiercely fought game. Right at the end, Jonathan had produced a brilliant cross-table shot which Katie had missed completely. She went to retrieve the ball, which had ended up wedged behind a cupboard against the back wall. She had got her fingers between cupboard and wall and was wriggling them around, trying to find the ball, when she had felt something else. She couldn't work out what it was from its feel, but she eased it out, in case it was something that one of the boys had lost. She was astonished to see what emerged.
She had pulled out a small cigarette rolling machine. She put her hand back behind the cupboard and, sure enough, she found two more objects. She pulled them out. There was a packet of cigarette tobacco, half full, and a box of matches. By now, Jonathan had joined her. He looked down at her find.
"The little buggers", he said, "who'd have thought it?"
His immediate instinct was to suggest that they should just confiscate the illegal material without saying anything about it. But Katie, kind-hearted though she was, was not inclined to agree.
"We can't possibly do that", she exclaimed, "you can't overlook evidence of smoking by boys their age."
"But if we catch the culprit, the poor blighter will probably end up getting six of the best from Rupert and that, I can assure you, is no piece of cake."
"But we're in loco parentis. Just think, if you had a son of eleven or twelve and he started smoking at school, would you want him to be caught and punished or would you want him to be allowed to get away with it, and probably carry on smoking?"
Jonathan saw the sense of that. He reluctantly agreed that, whoever it was, the boy concerned really ought to be properly punished, for his own good. They gathered together the evidence and set off to show it to Rupert.
Rupert and Lucinda were in his drawing room going through a third draft of the wedding invitation list when Jonathan and Katie joined them.
"Hello", Rupert looked up, relieved to be diverted from the task, "would you think that it is possible to get away with inviting the Duke and Duchess of Wiltshire without inviting the Marchioness of Sus_s_e_x_?"
Jonathan laughed, "well, I think all three might be surprised if I invited them to my wedding."
"You've no idea how lucky you are Jonathan", said Lucinda, "just think how wonderful it would be if all we had to worry about was whether a couple of second cousins we hadn't seen for years had to be invited."
Rupert was eager to get Lucinda off the subject of how tedious it was to have to invite half the nobility of England to their wedding. "So what can we do for you two?", he asked quickly.
Katie explained what she had found in the games room.
"Oh no, that's all I need", Jonathan moaned, "you were quite right to tell me, but I must admit that I wouldn't have minded if you'd said nothing about it."
"That's what I suggested", said Jonathan, "but Katie pointed out that we do have a duty to the boys' parents to stamp this sort of thing out."
"Absolutely", said Lucinda, "whoever it is has got to be stopped before he becomes addicted. But I don't see what we can actually do. I mean, how on earth do we identify the villain of the piece?".
"I'm afraid that's easy", said Rupert, "we ask him to own up".
"But why on earth should he?", asked Katie, "Surely, he'll know he's bound to get a really fearful caning?".
"Of course he will", said Rupert, "and of course he wouldn't own up just because I ask him to. But if I announce that the whole school will be put in detention for three hours on Saturday afternoon unless the culprit owns up, I'm pretty confident he will."
The tactic was not one that appealed to Rupert, but he realised that it did have to be used occasionally. This, he had to agree, was a particularly serious matter and, if threats of mass punishment could not be used for this, it would be difficult to imagine circumstances in which they could be. He decided that he would have to do it. He would make the announcement at evening prayers on the following day (Friday).
There was considerable excitement as the boys filed in for evening prayers. The teams had been posted for the First XV and Under 11 matches against the Dragon School. It had been ages since a team from Lexton had beaten the Dragon. Expectations were now high that, on the following afternoon, success could be achieved. They were to be home matches and every boy not playing was looking forward to cheering the school on.
Rupert called for the chattering boys to be silent and asked Baxter to read that evening's lesson. It was mercifully short, and Rupert was soon reciting the prayers before making announcements. No one was expecting a summons to Rupert's study that evening, so there were no boys with sweaty palms and butterfly tummies in the room. When Rupert spoke, therefore, what he had to say came as a considerable shock.
"I am very sorry to have to make this announcement, but I have no choice. Yesterday evening a member of staff found smoking material hidden behind a cupboard in the games room. I cannot tolerate boys in this school smoking. I must therefore insist that the culprit owns up. I regret that, if he does not, tomorrow's matches will have to be cancelled and the whole school will be in detention for three hours instead. I will be in my drawing room from after prayers until prefects' bed time. I will expect to see the culprit there. If he has not arrived by prefects bed time I will have to telephone the headmaster of the Dragon to ask him cancel the matches."
A hundred very sombre boys filed out. One was more sombre than the rest.
Christopher Bracher was a very popular prefect. He had just turned thirteen. He was to play for the First XV on the following afternoon. He was one of the most talented sportsmen in the school. He was also clever, without being a swot. There was every hope that he would get a top scholarship to Eton. Unfairly, as is so often the case, he was not only highly talented, but he was also remarkably good-looking. He was 5' 2" tall, with an athletic build. His hair was blond and his eyes blue. When he smiled, he had the most endearing dimples. He had never been in serious trouble, but he was mischievous enough to be very popular with the other boys. When younger, he had suffered an average number of canings and slipperings without ever making a fuss. Now, as a prefect, he seemed to have a natural talent for sending other boys to masters for beatings without any of them ever thinking that he was being unfair.
Christopher had an older brother. Older brothers can be a remarkable boon. But they can also, sometimes, be a bad influence. Christopher's was usually in the former category. But he was also capable of being in the latter. His birthday present to Christopher, which had arrived at Framley in the post just before half-term, was far from being suitable. It had been a cigarette rolling machine, a packet of tobacco and a box of matches.
To be fair to Christopher, he had done no more than to experiment with his new acquisitions. A considerable amount of tobacco had been wasted in his efforts to produce a properly rolled cigarette. But he had, eventually, managed to do so. Coughing and choking madly, he had smoked about half of the resulting cigarette behind the cricket pavilion. But he hadn't enjoyed the experience and he had doubted whether he would repeat it. Nevertheless, foolishly, he had decided not to get rid of the machine, tobacco or matches. Instead, he had hidden them behind a cupboard in the games room.
Christopher realised, as soon as Rupert made the announcement, that he had no real choice. To refuse to own up would be the act of a cad. He had no doubts about the severity of the punishment he would be given. It was widely known that Rupert was an exceptionally hard caner. He was sure that the caning he would be administering that evening would be the hardest yet. So it would be fair to say that Christopher was far from being care-free as he made his way to the prefects' common room. He had decided that he would leave his confession until half an hour before prefects' bed time. That was not through cowardice. It was because there was something else pressing on his mind and he wanted time to think about whether he should raise it when he saw Rupert.
The other prefects, all of whom knew about the cigarette rolling machine, crowded round Christopher, asking him what he was going to do.
"I'm going to own up, of course. No choice really is there?"
His friends were entirely sympathetic, but they were also relieved by his decision. It didn't surprise them, but it was good to have it confirmed that the matches would not have to be abandoned. One by one, they clapped him on the shoulder and wished him good luck. Then they set off to reassure the rest of the school, without naming Christopher, that someone would be owning up.
Christopher sat on his own turning his other problem over and over in his mind.
Rupert went to his study immediately after prayers and selected a cane. He was as confident as he could be that he would be using it later in the evening. His guess was that the recipient would be a senior boy. He thought it probable that, if the boy was 12 or 13, he would decide to give six strokes. Even if the boy turned out to be younger and he could get away with four, he knew that the punishment would be the most painful he had yet inflicted at the school. That was why, unusually, he had decided to wait in his drawing room, rather than his study. There was a risk, he thought, that the boy would be unable to avoid crying during the beating. Because his study was so close to the dormitories, any crying might well be heard by other boys. That was something that Rupert would prefer, if possible, to avoid.
Lucinda was duty matron that night. Between lights out in the first year and second year dormitories she dropped into the drawing room to see Rupert.
"Only got a moment darling", she said, "but I thought you'd like to know that the boys all seem to know that someone will be owning up. I don't know who it is, but they all seem pretty certain. They've cheered up a lot anyway."
"I suppose that's good news", said Rupert, "but I have to say I'm not looking forward to it. Any other problems?"
"Nothing I couldn't deal with. Smithson was a little too high spirited, so I've got a sore hand yet again. I just hope his bottom is sorer. I'm afraid that boy is going to need the slipper before long."
I am not sure who was more nervous. Christopher was sitting alone in the prefects' common room, one minute thinking about his forthcoming thrashing and the next dreading what Rupert would say about the other matter. Rupert was sitting alone in his drawing room wondering whom he would be beating and dreading that whoever it was would not be able to take it well. The minutes ticked slowly by.
Just over half an hour before prefects' lights out Lucinda returned to the drawing room, listening carefully at the door before opening it for fear of interrupting Rupert in his head masterly duties.
"Have you done it yet?", she asked.
"Not yet, can't be long now though. All go well with the other dorms?"
"Nothing unusual. I'm afraid I had to get Jonathan to slipper Richard for ragging, but your little brother always bounces back like a yo-yo. He was chattering away about tomorrow's matches as if nothing had happened only five minutes afterwards."
"Good Truman blood there", chuckled Rupert.
It was then that the door slowly opened and Christopher Bracher nervously stepped into the room. There was no doubt why he was there. However hard he tries, the boy who presents himself for a caning can never succeed in looking anything other than miserable. And Christopher certainly looked miserable. He had left his jacket in the prefects common room, reasoning to himself that he would only have to remove it for his punishment anyway. In shirt and slim fitting grey school trousers he somehow looked slighter and more vulnerable than usual. He registered Lucinda' presence with something like horror on his face. It was not, in fact, that he was worried about her seeing him being caned (although he would rather she did not). It was because he had resolved that he would raise his other concern with Rupert. And that was definitely not something to be discussed in front of a woman. But he needn't have worried. She spoke immediately.
"Hello Bracher. I expect you need to see Mr Truman alone. I'm off to the bar". And she left at once.
The second the door was closed Christopher spoke.
"I've come to own up Sir".
Rupert looked and felt very sad.
"Oh Bracher", he said, "I am so disappointed in you. Do you want to tell me about it?".
"I s'pose I'd better Sir. I'm really sorry. I know how stupid I've been. But I only made one cigarette Sir. And I hated it and I wasn't going to do it again."
"About half the packet of tobacco has gone. That's not just one cigarette."
"I know Sir, the rest sort of came out when I was trying to roll them. I was pretty hopeless at it Sir."
Rupert could remember trying to roll cigarettes when he had been about fifteen. He had not been much good at it himself. Christopher's explanation for the missing tobacco rang true.
"Where did you get it from?"
"Someone gave it to me Sir."
"And who was that?".
"I'd rather not say Sir, if that's all right".
"Just tell me this, was it another boy in the school?"
"Oh no Sir, no one else here is involved."
"I have your word of honour on that?"
"Yes Sir, without a doubt Sir."
"Very well, I won't press you on it. You are normally a very sensible boy Bracher, I am extremely surprised at this stupid behaviour. But I doubt whether it is necessary for me to give you a lecture. I get the impression that you fully understand how bad this is."
Christopher looked miserably down at his feet. "Yes Sir, I do".
"Very well, is there anything else you wish to say before I punish you?"
"Um, well, yes Sir there is. But it's not very easy Sir. It's about something completely different."
Christopher's misery seemed to be becoming even more intense. Rupert had, so far, kept the boy standing in front of him, but now some instinct told him, despite the forthcoming beating, that there was a need for gentleness.
"Sit on the sofa Christopher and tell me all about it."
Christopher sat nervously on the edge of the sofa and took a deep breath. Then, in a sudden rush of words, it all came out.
"It's about Mr Rampton's talk to us yesterday Sir when he told us about self-abuse Sir. I've been thinking about it ever since and I know I've been sinning Sir and it's so bad that I thought I had to own up to that as well Sir."
Rupert knew that Mr Rampton had insisted on give a talk to the prefects on the facts of life. If the truth be told, he had been quite grateful to the older man for having taken on that responsibility. But, in an instant, he realised what a mistake it must have been. Whatever had been said, it had clearly left this normally cheerful and sensible boy in a turmoil of guilt and distress. Not for the first time, Rupert cursed Mr Rampton under his breath.
Rupert smiled at the poor boy. "Let me get this straight Christopher. You have started to masturbate? Is that right?"
Christopher was almost crying as he made the admission. "Yes Sir, and I knew it was wrong before but after what Mr Rampton said yesterday I know how truly evil I have been."
"Well, if you are so evil then I am afraid that there are an awful lot more of us who will be joining you in hell."
Christopher looked up, surprised at the turn the conversation had taken, "what do you mean Sir?".
"What I mean is that every male I can think of who has reached the age of about 14 has discovered the delights of masturbation. I remember, when I was about your age, that there was a joke doing the rounds. It went something like this: 'a recent survey of teenage boys has shown that 95% of them admit to masturbating regularly, 5% were found to be liars'. Christopher, there is absolutely nothing abnormal in a boy of your age masturbating. Not everyone starts at exactly the same time. It depends on their physical development. But everyone starts eventually. As far as I can remember, I was 12 when I started. But I knew that some of my friends didn't start until they were 13 or even 14. But they soon made up for lost time. You needn't worry, I will not repat anything we say in here, but please will you tell me what Mr Rampton said to you all."
"Well, Sir", Christopher was already looking a great deal more cheerful, despite the fact that he had not forgotten the original purpose of his presence in the drawing room, "he said that self-abuse, that's what he called it, was not just very bad for our health, but it was also a dreadful sin against God. He said that one of the ways God would punish us if we did it was to make us weak and feeble, so we'd be no good at sports. He said it would probably affect our eyesight first. But that was nothing to what would happen to us on the day of judgment. I can't remember it all Sir, but it was something like that."
That was the moment at which Rupert resolved that Mr Rampton would have to go, whatever the cost. He could not believe that a serious schoolmaster could talk such complete and utter nonsense to impressionable boys. In other circumstances it might be funny. But Rupert could see, sitting in front of him, the awful result of the older man's stupidity. Normally, he was very careful never to give the boys an inkling of any differences between the two joint headmasters. But this was far too serious a situation to allow such considerations to affect what he said.
"Well Christopher, you and I and the rest of the sixth form are going to have a full discussion about all this as soon as possible. All I will say for now is that I have never heard such nonsense in my life before. Actually, that's not quite true, I remember my own prep school headmaster saying something like that, not as extreme, but still pretty foolish. It's like telling people that it's a sin to breathe. Take it from me, all teenage boys masturbate, some more than others, but all do it. What is more", Rupert had worked himself into something of a fury with his colleague, "Mr Rampton himself most certainly masturbated when he was a boy, and he may still do it for all I know."
Christopher was astounded by Rupert's little speech. He sat staring at the young master, his mouth wide open in astonishment. Rupert realised that he may have gone a little too far.
"I'm sorry, Christopher, perhaps I shouldn't have said that. But I have to confess that I am pretty cross. Will you do me a favour?"
"Of course Sir, anything you want".
"Will you promise me never to repeat what I have just said about Mr Rampton? In return, I will make you a promise. I will promise that Mr Rampton will have retired as joint headmaster by the end of term. He has served this school very well over the years, but I just can't have him terrifying boys like that. Do we have a deal?"
"Yes sir. I promise it will all be a secret. And thank you Sir, I was so worried and now you've made it all right again."
"Good, but I am afraid you're not going to be feeling all right in a moment or two. We've still got the smoking to deal with, haven't we?"
"Yes Sir, but I know I deserve it. So that's ok Sir. Shall I wait in your study Sir?"
"No, we'll get it over and done with here". Rupert stood up and walked towards the drinks cabinet. As he did so, Christopher noticed, for the first time, that there was a cane in a large Egyptian jar on the floor by the cabinet. He stood up and apprehensively stroked his small round bottom as Rupert retrieved the cane and turned to face him.
"I'm sorry Bracher, I know you won't be so stupid again, but I am going to have to make an example of you. The whole school has got to know that smoking will be very severely dealt with. I am afraid I am going to have to give you six."
"It's what I expected Sir", Christopher's voice was hoarse, but he spoke bravely, "and it's what I deserve."
"Well spoken lad. Stand in front of the fireplace, feet six inches apart, bend over and clutch your ankles without bending your knees."
Christopher did as he was told. Rupert felt a mixture of excitement and sadness as he looked at the long slim legs rising to the most perfectly proportioned boy's bottom. He had not felt quite like this since that day, years previously, when he had finally caned young Jonathan Trench. It was now an almost daily part of his job to cane or slipper boys, but there was something about Christopher's physique and his temperament that made him an outstanding candidate for the cane.
Rupert walked slowly towards the bent boy. He took up his position to the left of the waiting bottom and tapped it a few times with the cane as he judged his aim. Christopher, his elation at having his mind put at rest about the other matter now temporarily forgotten, felt the taps with a feeling of dread at what was to come.
Almost in slow motion, Rupert raised the cane high, eyes firmly fixed on the slim buttocks. Then, with a swing the like of which he had not used since his days as a public school prefect, he brought the cane crashing down on his target. It took all Christopher's effort to stay upright as the first stroke bit into his flesh. He had been caned many times before. But never had the pain from one stroke been as intense. He ground his teeth together to stop any involuntary cry from escaping his lips. As the second ferocious stroke hit him the pain was already almost unbearable. He was petrified that, for the first time in his life, he might cry during a school punishment. He dug his nails into his ankles. He desperately tried to think of the following afternoon's rugby match, and his intention to score the first try. Then the third slammed into his tender bottom. He was only half way through, but it already felt worse than immediately after that time Mr Rampton had given him six in the previous term. Amazingly, he had managed to stay silent. He could feel his eyes watering and he blinked furiously to prevent tears forming.
Rupert paused after the third. He knew that Christopher must already be in agony and he wanted to give the boy a few seconds to recover his strength for the final three. He had decided that those three would be delivered as rapidly as possible and he hoped that the short break would be enough to ensure that Christopher could get through them without crying out. The tactic was working. Christopher felt the pain was becoming just about controllable. He breathed in and out as slowly as he could and then, as he looked between his legs and saw the cane rising again, he held his breath once more.
The last three strokes were as hard as the first had been, but they descended so rapidly that it seemed almost as though they were being given in one movement. The agony was appalling, but at least it was over. And it had been done without a sound from the victim. Rupert normally made boys remain bending over for a short while, so as to prevent them trying to rub the pain away too quickly, but he knew that no amount of instant rubbing would reduce the fire in Christopher's bottom and he told the boy to stand as soon as the final stroke had landed. He almost jumped up in relief. He held his throbbing bottom in both hands and continued blinking the water out of his eyes. Slowly, but surely, the pain began to lessen rather than increase. It would be several minutes before the worst was finally over, but Christopher knew that he would recover very soon. He could feel the heat through the thin material of his trousers and underpants. He guessed that his bottom would be a mess of welts. But at least that would give him something to show off to his friends.
Rupert was replacing the cane in its jar. He moved slowly, to give Christopher a chance to recover his composure. Then he turned back to face the boy.
"I'm proud of you", he said, "you took that beating incredibly well."
"Thank you Sir", Christopher murmured, "please Sir, can I ask you something?"
"Yes, of course, what is it?".
"I was just wondering Sir, will I still be allowed to play for the school tomorrow?"
"Of course you will. I want us to beat the Dragon. I can't see that happening without you out there." He looked at his watch. "It's almost bed time for you young man. Off you go, and we'll forget all about this silly smoking business, won't we?"
"Yes Sir, I promise I'll never do it again Sir."
"Excellent. And as to that other matter, I hope I've put your mind at rest, even if I have said one or two things that perhaps I shouldn't have. I don't mind if you tell the other 6th formers that I told you that masturbation is normal in boys your age, but I would be grateful if you kept quiet about some of the other things I said about Mr Rampton."
Christopher smiled at his hero. "Don't worry Sir, I'll never tell anyone what you've said about all that. You've been kinder to me than anyone has for a long time. Thank you very much." As he spoke, he got closer to tears than he had been throughout his punishment. But he fought them back valiantly and set off to show off his wounds to his friends.
Rupert was still seething with anger about Mr Rampton's crass remarks to the sixth form boys. He concluded that he needed a drink to calm himself down. Rather than drink on his own, he decided to visit the staff bar.
There was a full house in the bar. All the young masters, Lucinda and the two under-matrons were there. As Rupert arrived Lucinda, who realised that dealing with Christopher could not have been pleasant, gave him a look of sympathy. "Was it awful darling?", she asked.
They all looked at him as he answered.
"The bit you all know about wasn't too bad at all. I'm sure he was telling the truth when he told me that he had already decided not to persevere with his smoking, and he's a plucky chap. I gave him six and he took them very well indeed. But something else he told me made me absolutely furious." Rupert then explained about Mr Rampton's talk to the prefects.
"He said that?", Timothy Jackson was clearly horrified, "the man must be living in the stone age, poor Bracher. What did you say?".
"Rather too much I'm afraid, but I think I can trust the boy not to let me down by repeating the worst parts. I was absolutely spitting about it. Obviously, I told him that all teenage boys wank. That would really have been enough, but I just couldn't resist saying that Rampton himself must have wanked as a boy, and probably still did."
Even the young under-matrons joined in the laughter. Mr Rampton had been a thorn in the side of everyone in the room at some stage or another and the idea of Rupert saying that about him to one of the boys was, to them all, wonderful to contemplate. But Rupert had had time to calm down a bit and he knew that he would have to take very urgent steps to ensure that his rather too wild words did not cause problems in the future.
"I suppose it was quite funny", he said, "but there is a serious side to it. If Bracher hadn't plucked up the courage to talk to me about it, God knows how miserable he might have been. Still, at least we now know what Rampton's been up to. I'm obviously going to have to talk to all the prefects as soon as possible, in case anyone else is agonising in the same way as Bracher. But that's not all. I've come to the conclusion that Rampton has got to go."
"I agree", said Jonathan wholeheartedly, "but how can you get rid of him? Surely, he won't go without a fight?".
"Oh, I think he'll go quietly enough", Rupert answered with a smile, "although you may be surprised to learn that it isn't always enormous fun being obscenely rich, I agree that it does have its advantages. I'm sure I can come up with a retirement package for Mr Rampton that he will not be able to resist."
In the prefects' dormitory Christopher's stripes were being admired by his peers. There was complete agreement that his bottom had the appearance of that of a public schoolboy after a particularly severe thrashing. Both he and Rupert went even further up in their estimation than they had been earlier. As they crowded round him to examine his wounds, Christopher broached the other subject he had discussed with Rupert.
"Before he swished me I told him about what Waxy said to us about wanking". Waxy, I should say, was the boys' nickname for Mr Rampton.
"How on earth did that subject come up?", asked Baxter.
Christopher blushed as he confessed his earlier fears. "I don't really know. I s'pose I was just a bit worried about it and, well I s'pose he's just easier to talk to than most masters. I just sort of blurted it out I think. Anyway, he was fantastic about it. He said telling boys our age not to wank was like telling people not to breathe."
"Bloody hell", said Baxter, "he's just the greatest headmaster anyone could have, isn't he? There can't be any other prep school headmasters who'd say things like that to a boy."
Christopher would, I think, have been surprised at the number of boys in the dormitory who were fully intending to sin that night. He would have been even more surprised to discover how many of them would be picturing his own striped bottom as they did so. One thing was certain, however, and that was that he himself would shortly indulge in his new hobby with a guilt-free relish that he had never felt before.
Rupert told Lucinda that he would do prefects' dormitory lights out that night. He was hoping to satisfy himself that no one else had been as badly affected by Mr Rampton's idiocy as Christopher had been. As he approached the open door he caught a glimpse of Christopher's bottom, just as the boy was pulling up his pyjama trousers. I am sorry to have to say that he had been hoping that that would happen. What he saw was enough to confirm that he had done a first class job. He smiled and entered the room.
"Ok everyone, into bed. I'm sure you've all had time to admire Bracher's war wounds."
Twenty boys hurried to their beds. He looked at them all and was pretty sure that no one was in the distressed state Christopher had been in earlier. They all looked relaxed and happy. He hoped that Christopher had corrected any misunderstandings caused by Mr Rampton's talk. If he had, he guessed that there might be a certain amount of between the sheets celebration going on after lights out. He would have to think of a suitable form of words to use when he gave them his own talk to ensure that they understood the benefits of moderation in these things. But, at least for that night, he was content that they should enjoy themselves.
AUTHOR'S NOTE
I hope I find somewhere else to publish the remaining instalments. Do email me if you have comments.