Jennifer Has A Plan free porn video

Jennifer has a Plan

They were to be spanked, all of them. Tomorrow, after breakfast, in the changingroom, on the bare bottom, with a gym shoe, by the head prefect. Such was themessage delivered to the girls of 6A, on that wet and miserable afternoon inFebruary, by Miranda herself. With her chestnut hair tied with red ribbons,and already in her games tunic — for this was the day of the match — shestood among their desks and told them their future.

'Let's see if this helps you remember,' she said. 'Nothingelse has, has it? I've given you lines. That didn't work. We gated you. Thatdidn't work. I don't see what you find so difficult about keeping your roomtidy ... No, Marie. Don't even think about arguing withme. I'm sure it wasn't your fault but that's too bad.I'm sick of this, and I will see you all — without exception — inthe changing-room tomorrow. Straight after breakfast, please. Thank you.'

She turned to go, but Marie clung to her arm and began pleading.

'Stop being an idiot, Marie!' said Miranda, detaching herself. 'Act yourage, for heaven's sake!'

She left, and the door closed softly behind her, leaving the room plungedin deepest gloom.

For this was no small matter.

Most of them had been spanked before, usually with a hairbrush through adressing-gown, for talking after lights out. But a spanking on the bare bottomwith a gym-shoe, by none other than Miranda — that was a different thingaltogether. And all because they had left the form room in a mess!

The soft sound of weeping soon filled the room. Some hugged their knees andwept. Some lay their heads on their desks and wept. Some stood at the window,stared out into the drizzle, and wept. A few indulged in useless recriminations,and some bitter things were said about Miranda too, even by those who, in schoolparlance, were 'cracked' on her. And one girl merely sat at her desk, thumpedthe lid of it repeatedly with a fist, and saying, 'It's not fair! It's justnot fair!'

Then, from the furthest and darkest corner of the room, came a low, amusedvoice.

'Lord love us!' it said. 'Nine of us, all in one go! Anyone know if that'sa record?'

Nobody was much inclined to answer this.

'How do you think she'll do it?' continued the voice. 'Line us up in a rowlike so many peaches, or call us up one by one?'

'Shut up, Jennifer!'

'Baggsie go last, then, when she's run out of steam.'

' Shut up , Jennifer!'

'What — interrupting your little blub, am I?'

She sat, in defiance of house rules, on the lid of her desk. At the age ofsixteen Jennifer had mischievous sparkling eyes, a nose that turned up at theend, and a mop of unruly hair that she was always being told to 'do somethingwith'. She regarded her room mates with a grin.

'Seriously,' she said. 'What is the point of blubbing?'

'Oh, of course you're not going to!'

'Course I will ... tomorrow. Everyone does. Doesn't mean I have to startnow, does it? Anyway, it's only a spanking, for crying out loud! You go tothe changing room, it hurts like blazes, you cry, and then it's over. The realpunishment's in the waiting, isn't it?'

She jumped off the desk and went over to the door. With a flick of the light-switchshe banished the February gloom and turned the room yellow and warm.

'I'll tell you what's painful!' she said. 'Breaking your arm. That's painful.Being hit on the cheekbone with a hockey ball. That's painful too. A gym shoeon the bum, on the other hand ...!'

' Bare bum,' squeaked a voice. And the room shudderedanew. Jennifer saw a single fat tear appear in the girl's eye, slide the lengthof her cheek and drop to the floor, all in the space of a second.

'I've had it on the bare bum before,' she said. 'Charlie Fairstead, for swearing.Remember Charlie? Now that was a spanking. That wassomething to blub about. They don't do it like that anymore!'

'You're think you're so jolly brave, don't you?'

'Well, you can froust about in here all afternoon if you like. But why doyou think Miranda — who I love and revere —' (Jennifer was notbeing sarcastic) '— Why do you think she came and told us today ,what she's going to do to us tomorrow? To make us fret it out, that's why,and ... an' think about our sins while we do so, and all that rot. Well, I'mblowed if I will. Who's coming to watch the match?'

She put on her blazer and hat. Rowan, her best friend, at once put on hers.But there were no other takers.

So Jennifer and Rowan went by themselves to the changing-room. Rowan saton the bench and began unbuckling her sandals. Jennifer meanwhile was inspectingthe place of execution.

'Suppose we'll be here ,' she said, bending over andtouching her toes. And then she straightened. 'And Miranda'll be here .And the rest of us will be lined up there , with a niceview of proceedings.'

'There's no need pretending to me, you know,' said Rowan. 'I know you'refunking it as much as anyone.'

'Codswallop.'

'Oh yes you are. Because it's jolly ... well ... going ... to hurt, and youknow it. Now for Pete's sake let's get out of here.'

They put on their outdoor boots, and their macintoshes, and wound long scarvesaround their necks — red and blue, the school colours. Then they leftthe school block by the back door, and strolled over the damp playing-fieldswith heads held high.

Arriving at Home Pitch, however, they found to their annoyance that the newshad preceded them. At once they were the objects of sympathy and curiosity,and more than a little amusement. Spankings were often meted out to the juniorgirls. But seniors who strayed from virtue were usually dealt with in morecivilised ways. When the word had spread that 6A were to be spanked, enmasse, with their knickers down, it was the finest piece of gossipsince Miss Millicent was seen in Larborough in Mr Hall's car.

A little crowd instantly formed around the doomed pair. But Jennifer wasin no mood to indulge them.

'What's it for?' asked Tracy White — a pale, stringy girl in the yearabove Jennifer. 'What have you done?'

'Litter,' said Jennifer shortly, gazing out over the playing-field, wherethe teams were just coming on.

' Litter?'

'You know, bits of paper on the floor.'

'You're getting spanked for litter? '

'What, are you deaf?'

'On the bare bum?'

'Maybe, maybe not.'

'How many? The lot?'

'I really don't see,' said Jennifer loftily, 'what the blazes this has todo with you .'

'I was only asking ,' said Tracy, and turned red.

'Don't, then.'

'You don't have to ... you think you're so beastly clever, don't you?'

'Yes,' said Jennifer. 'Now would you excuse us? Believe it or not, Rowanand I came to watch the match, not to answer foolish questions about what I imaginedwould be a private affair.'

It was a frightful day. It had rained hard at lunch, and the playing-fieldswere covered with puddles. All regular games had been cancelled, and the matchshould have been cancelled too, but the visitors had come thirty miles by coach,and it would hardly do to give them tea and biscuits and send them off again.So after a lot of consultation between staff, the fixture went ahead as planned.

Not even weather this filthy could dampen the enthusiasm of the teams, however.From the first whistle they played in earnest. No matter that the ball, howeverhard they hit it, would come to rest in the mire a few yards away, and haveto be hit again. No matter that the players, despite their studs, slipped andslithered into every tackle. No matter that their hair clung to their cheekslike water weeds, and they were half-blinded by rain and mud. They went atit hard, and consequently more shins and ankles and knees were hacked thanusual.

Miranda was playing at centre-half, and always seemed to be in the thickof action. Soon she was unrecognisable from the shining figure who had appearedin the 6A form room to hand out justice. One leg, from the hem of her tunicto her shoe, was smeared black with mud from a fall; the other glistened whitewith rainwater. There was mud on her arms too, and mud on her neck and chin.Sometimes the spectators could distinguish her only by the red ribbons in herhair.

The ball went wide, and the winger was nowhere in sight. Miranda came outfrom the centre, racing an opponent. She caught the ball just before it wentinto touch, not ten feet from where Jennifer and Rowan stood. They could almostsmell her, feel the heat of her. She hooked the ball, turned deftly, raisedher stick, and brought it down hard.

THACKKKK! said the stick on the ball. It was as loud as a branch snapping.Rowan and Jennifer flinched.

'Hmmmm,' said Jennifer.

'Gosh,' said Rowan.

The ball sped up the touchline, sending an arc of water into the air behindit. Miranda raced after it.

'That's the idea,' said Jennifer quietly. 'You tire yourself out today, mydear.'

But she had gone rather white.

The ball came to rest in a puddle. Miranda reached it first. She raised herstick high.

THACCKKKK!

The ball went speeding off again.

'Phew!' said one girl, a friend of Rowan's, who had come to stand with them.'I've got to say it, Rowan. If Miranda was going to give me theyou-know-what tomorrow, with my knickers down, I don't think I'd come and watchher play hockey. I'd be crying in the toilets.'

'That's what I wanted to do,' said Rowan. 'But Jennifer wouldn't let me.'

'You must be nervous...'

'Of course she's not nervous,' said Jennifer. 'Tough as a boot, is our Rowan.Take more than a spanking to....'

THACKKKK! said Miranda's hockey-stick once again, and Jennifer sighed.

'Rather you than me,' said the tactless friend.

Miranda brought the ball up the wing. The winger, meanwhile, had positionedherself in the centre, waiting for Miranda's cross. Miranda turned. Two opponentscame rushing at her. At the last moment she raised her stick and swung.

THACKKK!

It was a perfect shot. The winger had only to stop the ball as it came, turn,and shoot. The bemired goalkeeper didn't have a chance. The back of the netbillowed, the whistle blew. The noise of the crowd was deafening. Jenniferand Rowan at last forgot their woes, as they jumped up and down in delight.

But then a hush fell. Miranda was down and had stayed down. One of the defenderswho had tackled her had failed to stop, or had tripped, or slid, or something.Nobody was quite sure. But there had been a collision. Miranda was motionlessin the mud. The match was halted. The referee went over to her, followed bythe games mistress, and then one of the school nurses, who had come to watchthe match. The other players stood in little groups nearby. The spectatorswaited, and anxiety sat in every breast. Once they saw her sit up, and therewas excited whispering. But she was made to lie down again. At last a stretcherarrived. Miranda was lifted onto it, and carried away in the direction of theSanatorium, which stood by itself at the edge of playing-fields. The word wentabout that she was concussed.

The match was abandoned for fear of further accidents. The spectators sentup dismal cheers for the visiting team, and then began drifting away over thesodden playing fields.

'Poor old Miranda,' said Jennifer, deep in thought, as they walked underthe dripping lime trees. 'Wonder what that feels like, concussion.'

'My cousin had it,' said Rowan. 'From falling off a roof. He was in bed fordays.'

'Was he?'

'Mm. But he was fine afterwards. It always clears up, I think.'

They walked in silence. Both were thinking exactly the same thing, but neitherknew how to raise the subject.

'So ... ' said Jennifer, at last. 'Tomorrow morning's a bit unlikely now,I suppose.'

'It is rather. Poor old Miranda.'

'Poor old Miranda. Lucky us, I suppose.'

'Do you think we'll be let off, then?'

'No. It's in the book, isn't it? We'll get it, one way or another. I justmeant it probably won't be Miranda.'

'Then who will it be?'

Jennifer thought about this. And her face brightened. 'You remember whenMiranda went up last term for her Cambridge exams...'

'Yes.'

'Well ... who took over from her?'

'Mary, of course' said Rowan. 'She's the Deputy Head Girl, isn't she?'

She abruptly stopped walking, joy dawning in her face. She stared at Jennifer.And Jennifer stared back at her.

'Oh my gosh!' said Rowan. 'Do you really think? I mean, you wouldn't evenfeel it, would you, if Mary did it? You'd have to remember tocry.'

'Hmm,' said Jennifer. She straightened her back, pressed her chin into theheel of one hand, and nibbled her little finger. She squinted, and looked hardat Rowan. Rowan waited. She had been Jennifer's co-conspirator for many years,and she knew the signs.

Heavy raindrops fell silently around them. The 'Tea bell' sounded, and stillRowan waited patiently. At last Jennifer seemed to come out of her trance.She smiled broadly.

'Well, come on!' she said. 'Let's go and get some tea.'

'What? Oh tell me!' said Rowan. 'Have you got a plan?'

'I'll tell you over a hot bun,' said Jennifer. 'Don't say a word to the others.They only muck everything up. Come on then!'

The two friends took off in their macintoshes across the squelching grass,not minding how many muddy puddles they ran through, otherwise what was thepoint of wearing outside boots?

*

But it was two very different-looking girls — fresh stockings, washedfaces, and brushed hair — who went upstairs after tea, up into the realmsof quiet and privilege where the prefects had their studies. Long experiencehad taught them that neatness goes a long way, even with girls barely a yearolder than them.

Mary was in her study, deep in revision. She smiled when she saw them.

'Hello, you two,' she said. 'Are you coming in?'

'We don't want to disturb you,' said Jennifer, speaking with unusual deference,and hoping she wasn't overdoing it. 'We just came to ask after Miranda.'

'That's nice of you. She's not at all bad, they say, but she'll be in beda few days.'

'Have you seen her?'

'No, they wouldn't let me. I'll try again in a while...'

'Poor old Miranda!' said Jennifer, with wide eyes. 'She won't like that much — beingin bed for a few days. Is it concussion?'

'Hopefully not.'

'Well, that's something.'

Jennifer took a couple of deep breaths, nibbled her lip, looked down at thefloor, and then back at Mary.

'Listen, Mary. I know I shouldn't be bringing this up now. But ... tomorrowmorning, Miranda was going to, ah, see to us , in thechanging-rooms. You know, for leaving the form-room in a mess.'

'Yes, I know,' said Mary, with a note of warning in her voice.

'Oh, we're not trying to wriggle out of it, or anything! Of course not! It'sjust that ...' Here Jennifer glanced at Rowan, as if to confirm that what shewas about to say really was true. 'I don't mind so much myself, but the othergirls ... well, they've been crying their eyes out all afternoon, none of themate a bite at tea, and they're still at it now,' (some of this was true) 'AndI'll bet they cry all the night too. You know how it is when you're up fora spanking. You can't concentrate on your lessons, your knees are shaking thewhole time, you can't think about anything but the, er ... what's going tohappen...'

'Oh dear!' said Mary, aghast, who had never been spanked in her life.

'I know it's not at all up to us,' said Jennifer, hanging her head. 'I knowthis awfully impertinent, and everything, but if Miranda's going to be in bedfor a few days, that's an awfully long time to sweat it out. So I wondered... if you thought ... whether someone else might...'

'...Put us out of our misery,' said Rowan, speaking for the first time. And — amiracle! — a single tear trembled in her eye.

'It's really on behalf of the others,' said Jennifer. 'They are insuch a state.'

And they waited.

'Well...' said Mary. 'It's not up to me either. But it doesn't seem fair,I must say, to make you all wait for days. So I'll see what I can do. Is thatalright?'

'Oh, thank you, Mary!'

'Thank you, Mary!'

They bowed their heads humbly as they left her study. They kept silence onthe landing, and all the way down the stairs. But when they reached the downstairscorridor, Jennifer flung an arm around Rowan's shoulders and squeezed her tight.

'Rowan!' she cried. 'That tear! Where did it come from?'

'How could I not,' replied Rowan, 'With that piteous little tale you spun. "It'sreally on behalf of the other girls." You were inspired!'

'You were not so bad yourself. Isn't she a softie?'

They continued in this fashion even as they entered their form room. Lavinialooked at them suspiciously.

'Where've you two been? What are laughing about?

'Hello Lavinia. Cheered up a bit, have you?'

'What are you up to?'

'Why don't you write these questions down, dear? We'll have a look at themover prep.'

'You think you're so jolly clever, don't you?'

Jennifer and Rowan turned to each other, with a look of surprise. Then theyburst out laughing.

'Yes!' they cried. 'Yes we do!'

'What is it?' cried another girl. 'Is it something about Miranda?'

'I couldn't possibly say!' said Jennifer. 'You'll thank us, though, tomorrow.Come on, Rowan. Let's be elsewhere!'

They left the form-form to angry mutterings, and wiled away the time beforesupper playing ping-pong in the gym.

*

Mary went to the Sanitorium again, and this time the nurse let her visitthe invalid, on the understanding that she was not to bother her with schoolstuff. But after fond enquiries, there was a piece of business that Mary hadto raise. Miranda listened in silence, and saw all.

'Did they really?' she said. 'Jennifer and Rowan. Hmm. Jennifer and Rowan.'

'I thought it was rather noble of them, really,' said Mary. 'They were awfullyworried about the others.'

'I'll bet,' murmured Miranda.

'I don't know, though. If you are going to be out ina day or two, perhaps it would be better to wait.'

'No,' said Miranda, with a grim smile. 'If they don't want to wait, we won'tmake them wait. I'll deal with it now. There's a pad of paper under the bed — couldyou reach for it? I have to keep it hidden from Nurse.'

Miranda raised her knees to make a writing-desk. Then she pondered, sometimessmiling, sometimes frowning, and sometimes sucking her pencil. At last shebegan writing. There were two separate notes, neither very long. She had justfinished the second, and folded both into quarters, and written who they weremeant for on the back, when the nurse came in and began scolding. Mary hurriedlytook the notes, and went.

*

The girls of 6A returned to their form room after supper to find a note pinnedto the board:

To 6A. Your wish has been granted. You will all go to the changing-roomafter breakfast, as before. Miranda.

Some frowned, some sighed, and some wept anew. But Jennifer and Rowan, whenthey read it, whooped, linked arms and danced. Only after repeated requestsdid they stop and explain themselves to their bewildered classmates.

'You went and asked?' said Lavinia, flabbergasted.

'Ask, and you shall be given,' said Jennifer. 'You asses sat and wept allafternoon. Me and Rowan ... we kept our heads, when all around us...'

'There's no need to be so smug, anyway' cried Lavinia. 'We're thinking ofsending you to Coventry. Aren't we?'

She looked around for support. But there was none. On nearly every otherface, smiles were appearing. None of them felt like dancing yet — a spankingwas still a spanking, after all — but even the most timid could graspthat being seen to by Mary was rather better than being seen to by Miranda.

'Rather better than?' cried Jennifer. 'Infinitely preferable to! Mirandawould have flayed us! She'd have slaughtered us. We'dhave blubbed for weeks!'

'That's not what you said this afternoon!'

'I was lying, wasn't I? Mary, on the other hand ... now seriously, you lot , youmust remember to say ouch! when she hits you, or herfeelings will be hurt.'

The prep bell went. They settled down to their homework. Jennifer had a passageof Shakespeare to decipher and explain, something she rather enjoyed. She setabout the task happily. But when she had translated a dozen or so lines, herpen suddenly froze.

She put her chin in her hands and frowned. Then she shrugged and went onwith her task. Again she stopped. She laid down her pen, and quietly got up.She padded over to the board where the note still hung, and read it again.

'What is it, Jennifer?' said Rowan

She was immediately shushed. They were on last warning about talking duringprep, too.

Jennifer shook her head lightly, and returned to her seat. For ten minutesshe tried to settle down to Shakespeare again, but it was no good. Not a singleline could she understand. She got up again, quietly and nonchalantly, wentto the board, unpinned the note, and took it back to her desk. There she readit, over and over.

Rowan, next door, was by now perturbed. She grunted to make Jennifer lookup, and then shrugged her shoulders to say ' what?'

Jennifer looked at her and her face was tight and unhappy. Rowan had rarelyseen her friend like this since their first year, when Jennifer had been bulliedceaselessly.

'What is it?' whispered Rowan.

Jenny took her pen, drew a line under the words 'Your wish has been granted,'and slid the note along to Rowan. Rowan was bewildered. 'So?' she said. ButJennifer had returned to her homework, or was pretending to. She hid her facewith her hand, and refused to look at Rowan again.

The End of Prep bell went, and the school exploded with noise as usual. 6Atoo were rowdy. They barely heard the discrete knock at the door, or the girlresponsible for it. Her name was Tully and she was in the year below them,a timid and obliging girl. She entered uncertainly.

'Hello,' she said. She was very fidgety. 'I don't know if I should tell youthis. It's about ... tomorrow.'

Up shot Jennifer's head. She stared at Tully with foreboding.

'I was just heading over for evening prayers,' said Tully. 'And I saw ...But I don't know if I ...'

She paused.

'You saw what?' said Rowan.

'Well ... you'd better come and see for yourselves.'

Swiftly, and refusing to answer further questions, Tully led them along thedownstairs corridor and out the back door. They followed her along the pathto the chapel — ('Is this an attempt to get us to prayers, Tulls?') — andthen stopped and pointed to a particular window.

It was a prefect's study — of sorts. Unlike most prefect's studies,however, it was on the ground floor, and was also rather small. A girl calledRosie Harmer occupied it. It had been allocated to her because she had beenmade a prefect only at the beginning of spring term, rather than in Septemberas was usual. The rumour was that she would never had been made a prefect atall, had her father not visited the headmistress specifically to demand it.

'She is, quite simply, the most remarkably unpleasant girl I've ever met,'Jennifer had once said, trying to explain to some outsider why Rosie was sodeeply unpopular at the school. 'She bullied us all like anything when we werekids — me more than anyone — and now that she can't, she sort of smoulders inside.She sits and smoulders and glares, as if she hates absolutely everything inthe world and wants to smash it to pieces. I can't begin to tell you how gladeveryone was — everyone — when they didn'tmake her prefect...' ('But she is jolly good at games,'Rowan had added.)

In the evening drizzle, the girls of 6A watched Rosie Harmer, prefect andsportswoman, practice for the morning.

Her study was bare and brightly lit, and there were no curtains at the window.They could see in quite clearly. By the door, at the far end of the room, stooda wooden chair. Strapped to the back of it, with a belt, was a pillow.

Rosie come towards the window. They saw her tight, freckled face, with itssmall eyes and prissy mouth. Then she turned. In her hand was a gym shoe — justan ordinary school plimsoll, with a blue canvas top and a white rubber sole.

Two swift steps down the room. Her left shoulder went forward, her rightshoulder came back. The gym shoe went high above her head. She jumped, andswung. She put the entire weight of her body behind it.

The chair shook, the pillow folded up on itself, like a man punched in thestomach. Even from a distance, and through the glass, they could hear the thud.

They stood in stunned silence.

Rosie straightened the pillow, and came back to the window. This time shegripped the shoe by its toe rather than by the heel. She repeated the manoeuvre,and then cocked her head, comparing the effect. She decided to try the heelonce more. Evidently she had been working on her technique for some time.

It was sinking in very slowly. The horror was too great to be grasped allat once. In silence they watched Rosie attack her pillow once more.

Then little Alex Hardman said to Jennifer, 'But Mary's going to do it, isn'tshe?'

Her voice was simple, uninflected, without fear. She hadn't believed whatshe was seeing. There was an awful calm about her. In fact there was an awfulcalm about all of them — like the calm of a baby just before it screams.

Everyone looked at Jennifer.

'I'm sorry,' she whispered. 'I'm sorry.'

'Sorry?' said a voice, not understanding the word in this context. Somebodyelse began choking on their breath. There were some preliminary sniffs.

Jennifer knew at once what had to happen now.

'Go inside,' she said. 'Please! Rowan, get them to go back inside! I'll sortthis out. I promise. Just go inside!'

She ran away down the path, then beneath the lime trees and onto the playing-fields.All was dark. She hurried over the water-logged grass, stumbling and sliding,and sometimes plunging into deep unseen puddles. Her sandals and stockingswere soaked within seconds. The rain had ended, and the sky was busy with heavy,mysterious clouds. It was like being inside a vast cathedral. Now and thenthe moon appeared, like a face appearing at a window, and smiled down at theworld, and then withdrew. Goal posts loomed above, like the spars of a ghostship, and corner flags were loud in the wind.

Two minutes later she slithered down the bank of grass and mud that surroundedthe Sanitorium. Her breath was raggedy. She skirting the building, keepingto the shadows, and arrived at the front door. There didn't appear to be anybodyaround. The building looked as though it had already been put to sleep. Butthe door was unlocked. Jenny kicked off her mud-covered sandals, and silentlyopened it. Inside, all was quiet and dark. She crept along the corridors inher stockings, making for the ward. At the door she took a breath, and wentin.

The ward was dark. But there was a pool of light at the far end, and therewas Miranda. There was a bandage around her head. She was sitting up in bed,reading a book. Jennifer paused. And then she came down the row of beds, wonderingif she should speak, or cough. But Miranda sensed her, and raised her eyescalmly from her bright page, squinting into the darkness.

But when she recognised Jennifer, her face darkened and her eyes filled withanger.

'Oh Miranda...!' said Jennifer at once, but Miranda scowled and put her fingerto her lips. Then she pointed to the bed down the row. Jennifer looked, andsaw that there was someone asleep in it.

She wasn't to be put off. Coming closer, and keeping her voice to the merestwhisper, she said 'Please Miranda, I need to speak toyou. Oh please let me speak to you!'

Miranda still looked furious. She glared at Jennifer, and seemed about tosay something awful like 'What the devil do you thinkyou're doing here?' But then she saw Jennifer's face, and after a brief pauseshe gave the tiniest of nods.

And Jennifer realised she didn't have a clue what to say.

She had coming rushing through the darkness with a single goal: to see Miranda.And now she was there, breathless and muddy, she found her thoughts were astangled as her hair. It hardly helped, either, to be standing and looking downat Miranda, and to be obliged to speak in a whisper. But proceed she must.

'It was all me, Miranda,' she said. 'Please don't do it to the others! Rowanand me went to Mary. But I talked her into it. Rowan, I mean. I don't mindwhat you do to me, but please don't do it to them. They didn't even know aboutit.'

Miranda was very still. She didn't take her eyes off Jennifer's face.

'Rosie was practising in her study,' said Jennifer. 'Just now. With a gymshoe. She's going to half-kill us.'

Miranda nodded.

'But they don't deserve it! They haven't done anything wrong! Except to leavetheir books lying around. Some of them didn't even do that .You can't let Rosie do it!'

Miranda lifted an eyebrow in surprise.

'Not to them,' said Jennifer, going on stubbornly. 'I don't care about me.'

'And that, I believe,' said Miranda, and Jennifer was startled to hear hervelvety, musical voice for the first time, 'Is also what you said to Mary thisafternoon.'

Jennifer bit her lip and hung her head. There was a world of difference betweenwhat she had said to Mary that afternoon, with her neatly-brushed hair andher mouth full of lies, and what she was trying to say now. But she couldn'tthink of anything to say that wouldn't just sound like morelies.

Miranda was watching her closely. She said, 'Then none of the others honestlyknew about it, when you and Rowan went to see Mary?'

'No,' said Jennifer. 'And I talked Rowan into, too.'

'Rowan does what you tell her to do, does she?'

Jennifer waggled her head in a way that meant 'More or less.'

'More fool her.'

Miranda pondered the matter for a long time. Her face was grave. Jennifercould hear her breath, and the soft sighing of the sleeping girl, and the bloodin her own ears. At last Miranda nodded. 'Very well. You tell them that I'llsee to them myself, as soon as I am out.'

'Oh thank you,' whispered Jennifer. 'Oh thank you.'

Now came a brief sort of interlude. Jennifer stood and looked at Miranda,and Miranda, leaning back on her pillows, watched her in turn. She was wearingwhite cotton pyjamas, with a blue collar that nestled under her chin. Her facelooked tired. Her hair, where it escaped from the bandage, shone coppery underthe bedside light. The ribbons she had worn for the match were now tied tothe bed frame above her head, like rosettes. They were splattered with mud.When Jennifer saw them, she knew at once what she had to say. No — whatshe wanted to say.

She knelt, so that her face was level with Miranda's, and laid her arm onthe bed to steady herself. She found she couldn't bring herself to raise hereyes to Miranda's. So she looked at the red hospital rug on the bed.

'I don't know what to say,' she said. 'Except that I feel so terrible. Yougot hit on the head, and I used it to get out of a punishment.'

There was a great lump in her throat, and her eyes were damp. The full awfulnessof what she had done was only now hitting her. She was trying hard not to cry.

Miranda watched her steadily.

'And?' she said.

'And I'll do anything to make it up to you.'

'Good. But that's not all you did, is it? You also took advantage of Mary'sgood nature. Mary likes to trust everyone. You knew that, and you made hertrust you. That was unbelievably rotten behaviour.'

Jennifer hadn't thought of that aspect of it. Now she did so, and saw thatMiranda was right. A tear slid down her cheek and she didn't bother to retrieveit. She looked at Miranda with brimming eyes, begging for judgement.

'So,' said Miranda, with the ghost of a smile. 'You want to make amends,do you?'

Jennifer shut her eyes and nodded.

'I know you're sorry. I forgive you. Now we must think of a suitable punishment.Mustn't we?'

Jennifer nodded.

'There is an obvious one, isn't there?'

'Yes.'

'After all, poor Rosie has spent a whole evening getting her eye in.'

'Yes,' said Jennifer. 'Yes.'

'Good. Tomorrow morning, then, in the changing-room, exactly as planned.But you'll also join the others, won't you, when I see to them? You'll be anold hand by then.'

'Yes,' said Jennifer.

'Good. I'm glad you came to see me. Now, I'm sick of writing notes. Can Irely on you to tell everyone where they are meant to be, and at what time?'

'I will,' said Jennifer.

'Well done. And now you'd better go. It's already past curfew.'

Jennifer nodded. Then she said, 'Are you alright, Miranda? Is your head alright?'

'Right as rain,' said Miranda.

She put a hand on Jennifer's shoulder, and kissed her on the top of her head.

'Off you go. Try and get some sleep, won't you?'

*

The next morning, Rowan, no matter how many times Rosie told her to pushoff , refused to do so. Jennifer, her face as white as a schoolplate, also told her friend there was no point to her being there, butstill Rowan wouldn't budge. So Jennifer and Rosie gave it up, and wentinto the changing-room together, as if they were in league against Rowan.The door shut. Rowan leaned back against the wall of the corridor, herhands behind her back and one knee raised. She crossed her fingers, andwaited.

She heard the murmur of voices from inside, mostly Rosie's. It sounded veryfriendly, as though Rosie was teaching Jennifer how to tie a certain knot,or grip a tennis racquet. In fact Rosie had been friendlythat morning — almost the friendliest that Rowan had ever seen her. Thisfact alone made her quite nauseous.

The discussion seemed to go on for a long time. And then there was silence.Rowan waited, and waited, her heart in her mouth. Then she heart the suddenscrape of Rosie's sandal on the floor, a whirr of something moving throughair, and then the impact. There was nothing of a smack or spank about it. Itwas more like a loud, hollow, echoing drumbeat. Perhaps that was the acousticsof the changing-room. She heard Jennifer say 'Yow' — rather dutifully,as though she had read one of those boy's comics where the pupils are foreverbeing caned, and had remembered the correct response from it.

Then a sickeningly long silence. Ten seconds at least. And then exactly thesame sequence of sounds.

The only thing that changed as the strokes progressed was Jennifer's response.She said 'Ah!', and 'Oh no!' and 'Oh please!' Soon she was gasping for breath.A little afterwards she began sobbing, dragging the breath in and out likea wounded animal. And after a while longer, she was pleading. 'No please nomore! No please nor more!'

And then Rowan, who thought she couldn't feel any more nauseated than shewas already feeling, heard Rosie snigger and say: 'Why, we've only just started.Get down again. Get down!'

A pause. And then another stroke, and Jennifer began sobbing again. And stillRosie talked:

'So Jenny — you think you're clever, eh?' she said. 'How clever doyou feel now?'

'Oh no! Oh no! oh no!'

'Oh yes!' cried Rosie. 'Oh yes! Why, we're not even started, yet! Getdown! Get down! '

If she heard any more she would rush in and attack Rosie herself. So Rowanstuck her fingertips into her ears, shut her eyes, and waited.

Time passed. Sometimes she would hear Jennifer again, and have to dig herfingers even deeper into her ears. It felt as though she was betraying herfriend. She found herself praying, begging for it to come to an end. Minutesseemed to go past. And at last she felt the air shift as the changing-roomdoor opened and Rosie came out.

Rowan removed her fingers from her ears. Rosie saw her.

'What are you crying for?' she said with a sneer. Andthen, 'You can go in.'

Rowan did so, and found Jennifer lying curled up on her side on the coldconcrete floor, sobbing and gasping. Her gym slip was still around her waist,and her knickers around her knees. Rosie had simply left her like that. Rowanknelt down beside her, and stroked her arm, and started to say foolish thingslike 'There there!' But there was nothing she could really do, but be there,and wait. Out of decency she tried not to look at Jennifer's backside, butshe was aware that it was very red indeed.

They stayed like that for minutes. Sometimes girls would come in, see them,stop dead, and say 'Is that what Rosie did?' And Rowan would say yes, and forbidany further questions with a shake of her head. So the girls would merely saythat Rosie was a nasty piece of work who had it coming, and leave.

A bell rang. It was time for lessons. Jennifer lay a few seconds longer,and then rolled over, and knelt, and pulled her knickers up and stockings up.She didn't seem to be in too much pain. At least a gym shoe doesn't last likea cane does. But her face was still very white, and she didn't say a word.

They went to lessons, and took their break, and went to more lessons, andthen to lunch. And Jennifer said not a word. It was as though Rosie had hither so hard, that she had climbed deep into herself and was refusing to comeout. Her eyes were vacant. Rowan was seriously worried. Nothing she could dowould make Jennifer talk. She pleaded and cajoled, and Jennifer would lookat her, and then her eyes would simply slip away. At lunch she ate nothingat all, but drank glass after glass of water. And as soon as grace was said,she hurried out of the dining-room and disappeared.

They searched for her up and down the school — Rowan and others — withoutsuccess. Before tea they congregated in their form-room again, and began towonder if now was the time to bring staff into it. They knew how much Jenniferwould hate this — but then, was Jennifer even Jennifer any more?

Just as they were debating whether it would be best to go to Miss de Havilland,or Miss Wells, or matron, there was a banging at the door. Somebody outsidewas apparently trying to kick it down. Rowan strode over, ready to yell atwhoever it was who thought this was funny...

And there was Jennifer, smiling, and carrying in her arms an enormous whitecardboard box.

'I thought we'd have a study tea,' she cried. 'Just us lot. Guess where I'vebeen!'

She pushed past Rowan and came in, dropping the box onto the nearest desk.She opened the lid to reveal macaroons and cream puffs and shortbread and sponge-cakesand chocolate sandwich cake, all from the baker on the high street.

'That,' said Rowan, swallowing hard and trying not to cry, 'Would be a verygood idea indeed.'

And everyone else thought it would be a good idea too. So a pot of tea waspurloined from the dining-room, as well as teacups and milk, and they arrangedtheir chairs in a circle and tucked in. All the enmities of yesterday had vanished.And nobody, by unspoken agreement, referred to spankings, past or future. Butit was alluded once, when they asked Jennifer how Miranda had been.

'She looked tired,' said Jennifer. 'But I think it was just a knock, afterall. She should be out soon.'

'Oh ... good!' sang a voice, and there was laughter.Then more tea was poured, and the box went the rounds again. Jennifer had spentmost of her term's allowance on it. Even so, nine hungry girls made short shiftof it. First to disappear were the macaroons, and then the fairy-cakes, andthen the chocolate cake. And Jennifer was just persuading them that the shortbreadneeded finishing off too, when there was a knock at the door.

It opened. They gaped. For there stood Miranda.

She came in with all her old cheer and vitality. She was the picture of health.The bandage had gone.

She looked quickly around the room. When she spotted Jennifer she lookedat her anxiously. But what she saw obviously reassured her — perhapsit was Jennifer's chocolatey grin — and she relaxed. She greeted themall, and said she was very glad to see them enjoying the good things of life,and what she had to say had better wait until their feast was done.

'We're more or less finished,' said Rowan, politely getting to her feet.'Unless you'd like some shortbread?'

'Shortbread?' said Miranda, 'Hmm. Shortbread. Now you mention it, Rowan,I am meant to be keeping my strength up. Thank you.'

She took a piece. 'But you might want it back when I tell you what for. We'vesome unfinished business, haven't we? Now, I thought, we can either do it afterbreakfast tomorrow, as is traditional, or — if you have really finishedyour, er, banquet — we might get it over and done with now. I'll leaveit up to you.'

'Now!' said Jennifer. 'Now!' said Rowan. 'Now!' said various others. Eventhe most timid glumly admitted that now was as good as tomorrow. So off theywent in single file down the main corridor, past the roar of a hundred girlsat tea, and through to the changing-room.

She made them stand in line. ('Don't worry about school order,' she said.'I can't see that it makes any difference.') She brushed the sugar off herhands, found a gym shoe in one of the lockers, tested it once on her hand,and then called the first of them up. It happened to be Rowan.

'You know the drill,' said Miranda, with a twinkle in her eye. 'Stockingsdown, knickers down, touch your toes, and leave the rest to me.'

Rowan obliged her. Miranda lifted the skirt of her gym slip onto her back.They could see the muscles of Rowan's leg quiver beneath her white februaryskin.

'Fifteen each,' said Miranda. 'Off we go!'

She raised and swung. She did it with a certain detachment, as if practisinga golf-stroke. But there was nothing sentimental in it. It was hard, very,very hard. She paused for two or three seconds between strokes, no more. Rowanwas sobbing at five, pleading at ten, and yelling at fifteen. Whereupon Mirandasaid, 'That's your lot,' and waited as Rowan, gasping, slowly unfolded herself.And so on to the next. Nine girls and fifteen strokes, and her arm never beganto tire. The girls ran up to their dormitories and sobbed for half an hour.Then they dried their eyes and adored Miranda as much as ever.

'Told you there was nothing to it,' said Jennifer, as she lay on her bed.'If only you'd listened to me, eh?'

'If only,' said Rowan. 'If only.'

And that was more or less that. — Except that, shortly after tea, oneof the prefects came to Miranda and said that she hated to say it, but 6A hadleft their form room in a deplorable state again, with dirty teacups, and cake-wrapperseverywhere, and half-eaten bits of shortbread, and crumbs all over the floor.And they themselves were nowhere to be found.

'Hmm,' said Miranda, licking a stray piece of sugar from the side of hermouth. 'When you do see them, tell them they've got until bedtime to cleanit up — or else . '

'Hadn't you better do it?' said the girl.

'Not this once,' said Miranda.