The Good Housemaster Ch. 2

Amelia still needs a lot of work, so I am able to refocus on my skills. The session goes very well, actually. The tall woman begins to relax as time goes by, and she leaves, thanking me. With all thoughts back on my job, I go to the Main Hall, sure that I should be able to be as professional as possible with Penelope. Arriving for meal, though, she is nowhere to be found. Sitting down, I realize how disappointed I am. There is so much I needed to talk with her about. To clear the air. Yes, that's it. Absolutely not to see her again in that; lycra.

After finishing my meal quickly, I decide to go to the main office. More than likely, she's there in some meeting or another. To my surprise, I find her digging through a filing cabinet with Sherman and all four Housemasters standing behind her.

"I don't understand this," I hear her muttering. "Everything was in place Friday night."

Cawthorn, the eldest of the group, sighs. "All of my exams but one you've found. If we can't locate it..."

"I'll find it. Every page was counted and verified."

Sherman purses his lips. "Only you and I have a key to this cabinet, Ms. Pritchard."

"I know, sir..." Penelope sees me, and all five men turn.

"Something you need, Professor?" asks Brown. He looks fairly tired and a bit gray under the eyes.

"Ah, yes," I say cautiously. "I wanted to check my history exam, Professor." I make sure to look at Penelope as I address her properly. "Is this a bad time?"

Brown raises an eyebrow. "It is. Ms. Pritchard, are Wright's tests in place?"

I see the harried woman go to a large table. "Yes. Yes. Both sets of them."

I nod to Penelope and gather my papers, acting like I'm checking on a question. "Oh, and Professor, I just want to say that your daughter's tutoring sessions are going well. There's nothing to worry about." Penelope stares for a moment and then nods. I can say no more right now.

Sherman smiles. "Well, that IS good to hear. Keep up the amazing work, Professor." He turns back to Penelope and grows serious. "If we can't find the test, Ms. Pritchard..."

Penelope shakes her head. "I know, sir. It's here. I'll check inside the other folders all evening if I have to..."

"I know you will," Wastrope says kindly. "Let's start from the beginning..."

I close the door behind me and listen for a moment. Penelope sounds like she's getting more and more flustered by the moment. Sherman and Wastrope are trying to be encouraging, but Cawthorn is running out of patience. Not wanting to hear any more, I hand my test back and retreat from the room. I just hope she's not in trouble.

* * *

The next morning, I join the twenty some odd professors to pick up our freshly duplicated tests from the main office. As I enter the room, the cloyingly sweet smell of the mimeographer still hangs in the air. I glance over at Penelope, and she is standing there looking exhausted. Now really worried, I take my stack for English and ease out, carefully carrying them over to my classroom.

All twenty-three students were there on time. Many of the ladies are sitting stoically waiting for me to hand out the sheets. I start moving up and down each row. Miss Jones looks as dismissive as ever. Miss Chung fiddles with the edges of the pages, knowing she can't start yet. I arrive at Miss Akins' desk and find that the yellow haired lady has lined up her eraser and no less than five pencils at the front of her desk. She's obviously taking no chances. Miss White keeps staring at my midsection as I pass by, and I shake a finger at her. Finally, I hand the papers to Amelia. Actually, I just place them on her desk, and she smiles nervously.

Returning to the front of the room, I address my students. "You have two hours. No talking. For any breaks, you will hand me your papers before leaving. Headmaster Sherman as well as Professor Pritchard will be patrolling the halls, so don't dally out there. Any questions?" There are none. "You may commence."

I sit back behind my desk and begin finalizing my syllabus for the spring term. The first hour passes, and I scan the room from time to time. All I see is thinking and scribbling young women. Amelia appears a little concerned, but that's absolutely normal. They all look perfectly prepared...

Wait. My eyes zero in on the dark-haired Miss Jones. Why is she not writing? She's just staring at her papers. I continue watching for a minute and see her make little to no progress. What's she up to? Her grades have been perfectly fine with assignments on time, and yet she just keeps sitting there, looking from one question to the next. I then realize she hadn't attended a single tutorial session all term. Not a question after class. Did she cheat all the way through? No. Her midterms were better than average. What then? I see the brown-eyed lady break her pencil point. She slams it down and is now pushing her fingers into her temples. A few of the other students start looking at her. Finally, she raises her hand.

"Sir. I need; to go."

I can see Katie's knuckles are white. "Can I help, Miss Jones?"

"No, sir."

She stands calmly, but I could see her dark eyes are growing wet. The entire class is watching Katie head for the door, and I have to act. "Miss Jones. Could we speak outside? Students, keep going with your test. No talking." I escort the young lady outside, but I keep the door open. "What's wrong, Miss Jones?" I ask quietly.

The first year is barely keeping the tears at bay. "I don't know. I put my pencil down to write, but I blank out. I have no idea what I'm doing. I can't finish a single thought."

I see Penelope turn into our hallway, and she approaches quickly. "Is there a problem?"

The now pale young woman looks at both of us, trying to look calm. "I'm going to fail."

Penelope places a hand on her shoulder. "No, you are not, Miss Jones. Just settle down."

"My da is goin' to keel me!"

Her cockney accent suddenly becomes stronger than ever. Why is she panicking now? Was her demeanor all of this term a cover? I can't believe that. She wants to lead. To be the first and the best. An idea springs to mind. "Miss Jones. The first years in your house will not do as well if you can't get back there and finish." Penelope looks at me as if I've grown a second head.

"Eh?" The brunette is making fists in frustration. "Why?"

I look at her calmly. "They take their cues from you. Especially Miss Akins and Pritchard. Even now, I see them staring into the hallway."

Katie glances back into the room and sees that I'm right. The frown on her face eases. "My friends..."

"If you give up, then they'll question themselves. Do you understand why?"

She closes her eyes, and I can tell the teen is finally getting a hold of herself. "I was confident. They wanted to follow me."

"So lead. Be an example, and prove to them that you are worthy of that respect."

"Me?" Her clouded face is clearing. "I'm that important?"

"If you can be brave in front of them and finish that test."

The raven haired young lady stares back and wipes her eyes. "Yes. Yes, sir."

I watch as she re-enters my classroom and retrieves her papers. Several of her classmates nod encouragingly as she walks back to her seat. I turn back to Penelope and see that her eyes are shining. "Professor?"

"You are a marvel, Alan."

"For doing my job?"

"You know what most of them would have done?" She mimes patting me on the hand. "There, there. Go get a drink. Hope you can make it back."

"Rubbish. I'm sure I did no more than what is expected of us."

I can tell Penelope is more than a little aggravated at her peers. Even so, she looks in on her daughter and smiles. "Well; I'm glad you feel that way."

"I do, Ms. Pritchard."

She looks back at me, and we are standing very close in the doorway. "I'll be back as soon as your tests are finished. We need; to talk."

"I'll be here."

Nodding, she finally turns away. Again, I catch myself staring after her. Taking a deep breath, I wonder what she needs from me. Refocusing on the job at hand, I finally return to my students, who seem to need more supervision than I ever imagined.

* * *

My classes are finally complete. At least I didn't have anyone giving up this time around. At the end of my fifth test, I see that most of the students are looking tired now. I let them know they have just one more day and they will be free to celebrate Christmas break. It's really only a half day of receiving their grades before the parents arrive for the Christmas celebration anyway. As the last of the students leave, I close my file cabinets and start to grade the papers. I didn't get very far.

"Professor Wright." It's Penelope.

"Come in, Professor."

"Enough of that. You saw how everyone ignored you."

"Then call me Alan, like you did before."

"Fair enough." She begins pacing. "You have to believe me. I never misplace a test, not to mention an entire folder."

"You didn't find it then?"

"No. But it makes no sense. I double-checked everything before the weekend."

"And no one can get to them?"

"Just me and the headmaster. The cabinet is locked by our set of keys."

I lean back in my chair. "So what of Cawthorn? Was he able to replicate his exam?"

"He did. Just in the nick of time." I could tell Penelope's emotions were about to overwhelm her. I think I can feel the blonde's anger seeping out into the very air around me. "I can't make a mistake like this! I'm struggling enough as it is!"

I make a placating motion with my hands. "I'm sure Sherman won't be too mad. The test will eventually show up, and you all can figure out what happened."

"No, Alan! It's not there! I went through the few remaining tests. I dug through my desk. Sherman even went into his office to look over any documents I sent to him. I've wasted so much time and everyone else's!"

"Please calm down, Penelope." The woman is beyond worked up, and her thin veneer of control is evaporating. "Let's think about this."

"I have been! All afternoon!"

I stand and move around my desk. "You have to work your way back. Are you sure the test was in the cabinet?"

"Yes! How often do I have to say it?!"

"I'm just trying to understand. I'm the new one here, remember?"

The agitated lady takes a deep breath. "Of course. What are you thinking?"

"If you're sure it was in the cabinet, and there are only two keys..."

Penelope huffs dismissively. "You can't be blaming Headmaster Sherman."

"You know him better than me."

The woman shakes her head after a moment. "No. Sherman is a good man. He would never do this. If he's unhappy with me, he would let me know up front."

"Is there someone who could be unhappy with you?"

"It's pretty obvious, isn't it? Brown. After the party." Her brows knit. "But he doesn't have access to the office at night. And he was sick..."

"As was I..."

"Yes. Both you and him getting sick... Wait. His Prefect!"

"Yes. Why was she really out?" I freeze. "She was looking in a bin yesterday afternoon."

"Where?"

"Outside, in the courtyard. But it was empty."

Staring at each other, we realize what had happened. "The Groundskeeper!" we yell simultaneously.

Ms. Pritchard charges out into the hallway, and I'm not far behind. In a few moments, we're in the kitchens, near the door to the rear of the school. The older woman glances around. "Has anyone seen Mr. Davies?"

A cook points. "He's out back."

Penelope and I find a middle aged man in an ivy cap working on a lorrie. "Allo, Miss. What can I do ya for?"

Penelope frowns at the man's casualness. "Mr. Davies, do you still have the waste bags from yesterday?"

"Yes, Miss. Right over there."

We look over and see a significant pile of rubbish laying against the rear wall. "All of that is from yesterday?"

"Well, two days, actually. I burn the paper and such three days a week and sort the rest to take to town on Monday."

Penelope and I look at each other. There were twenty bags, at least. "I'll start over here..."

Penelope reaches out and stops me. "No, Professor. You can't."

"What? You need help."

"You have to go back. Your tests."

I realize I left them unguarded. "Dammit! I'm sorry, Ms. Pritchard."

The woman sighs. "Gereth, could you do me a favor?"

"You're me boss, so I guess so."

"I'm looking for a test with Professor Cawthorn's name on the front. About five pages clipped together."

He pushes his cap up. "Can you narrow it down some?"

"It would have been in an outdoor bin," I say. "From yesterday."

The man grins. "That does help, actually."

Ms. Pritchard nods. "Go ahead, Professor. We'll take it from here. The way things are going, you'll lose your tests as well."

"Don't jinx me, Ms. Pritchard!" With that, I try not to run all the way back to my classroom. Luckily for me, nothing is out of place. Settling myself down, I spend the rest of the afternoon grading. Just before evening, my exams are now in the books and ready to be posted tomorrow. I'm especially pleased with Miss Akins's short form writing, earning her a near-perfect score.

Making sure everything is locked properly, I head over to the main hall in search of Penelope. Not seeing her, I turn for the kitchen but step back as the doors suddenly open. The determined woman marches out with a few stains on her dress and a document clutched in her hand. She storms straight for the Headmaster's table.

"I found the test, sir."

Sherman's mouth drops when he sees the state his assistant is in. "Have you been in our waste bins, Ms. Pritchard? I admire your hard work, but it's a bit late..."

"I found them with trash in an outside bin."

The fifty-four-year-old man places his spoon down. "How did that happen?"

"I have my suspicions, sir." The stern-looking lady glances at Brown and then back. "We need to have a meeting of the senior staff."

Sherman nods. "First thing after dinner. Might I suggest you tidy up before then?"

"Of course." Penelope drops the slightly stained sheets in front of him and leaves.

Not sure what to do, I decide it was better to eat now and face whatever happens next on a full stomach. Grabbing my plate, I sit with a few other professors and studiously avoid any glances back at the Head Table.

* * *

It's growing late as I pace my room. I purposely keep the door open in an obvious invitation to Penelope in the hope that she comes by, but hours have passed with no word. Now the minutes keep ticking, and I get a strange feeling in the pit of my stomach. Becoming worried, I peer out into the hallway and look around. Deserted. Throwing caution to the wind, I set out in the general direction of the main office, trying all the while to not act like it. With every step closer, that feeling grows. I stop just outside. It's quiet, but my senses are telling me to continue. There's something... I can't describe it. But I must go in. It's irresistible now.

The outer office is unoccupied. I close in on the Headmaster's entryway and hear muted voices inside. Committing myself, I knock. There is a moment of silence, and then the door opens. Penelope is standing there, looking upset. "Professor? What are you doing here?"

"I... I had to come," I stammer.

Housemaster Brown appears behind her. "Ah. I guess I shouldn't be surprised."

I hear Sherman's voice. "Who is it? We must get this over with..."

Brown addresses the headmaster over his shoulder. "Professor Wright. He did see my prefect around the bins, according to Penelope."

The blond woman should have taken offense at the man's familiarity, but she doesn't respond. The assistant seems to be very distracted. What's going on here? Brown is staring at me closely, and my mind is all a jumble now.

"I suppose he's a part of this as well," the headmaster says. "Let him come."

Brown's lips curl up as I unsteadily pass by him. Entering the room, I see Wastrope standing to the side, looking concerned. Cawthorne is next to him, showing obvious impatience on his face. My eyes are then drawn to the headmaster's desk. On top of the cleared surface, the short brunette I saw rummaging in a bin is now bent over, her short legs barely touching the floor. A few steps to her left, Sherman is holding a cane in his hands.

"What's going on here, sir?" I know it's a stupid question. The prefect's dress was in place, but it's quite obvious what's about to happen.

"Miss Bowden has confessed to everything," Brown says with contempt. "She has been relieved of her position and now will be punished."

"Stupid girl. Cheating on my test. You deserve this!" Cawthorn hisses.

The twenty-one year-old chokes back a sob. "I'm sorry, sir. Just so long as I can graduate."

So; it's corporal punishment instead of expulsion. I realize that if I hadn't knocked, they would have already started. "She was cheating? Shouldn't she be removed from the school?"

"The lady is here on scholarship," Brown responds. "She has lost her parents and has no means of supporting herself."

"Oh." It's hard to think. Just like at the party. "But if she broke into the office, she can't be trusted..."

"Sir?" The blue-eyed girl looks up at Sherman. "The edge of the desk hurts."

The headmaster's eyes stare at her for a long moment. "Yes. We must get this over with." He places the cane under his arm and bends down behind the senior. The air is thick with anticipation. I can't believe my eyes as the older man lifts up the pleated skirt over the young woman's back, revealing a set of tight-fitting plain white knickers. I look to Penelope. Surely she will say something. Her lips move, and I barely hear her.

"Little bitch. Making me look incompetent."

Yes. Yes! The former prefect had caused her harm. I feel the seething woman's righteous anger. The girl is going to get what she deserves! I'm drawn back to the tableau occurring right in front of me. Sherman pauses, looking uncertain. His hands are hovering over the lady's waistband.

Professor Wastrope stirs. "Surely not, sir."

"I'm afraid it is necessary." Brown's voice is calming. Reassuring. "Miss Bowden has acquiesced to this so as to remain here."

The docile student looks up at the headmaster with acceptance. "I'm sorry. I know you must."

Sherman nods almost mechanically. He reaches down the last inch, and his fingers pull on the elastic. Still feeling Penelope's anger, I watch the young lady's round but firm backside become revealed to all of us. A perfect target for our retribution. I'm drawn forward to watch Sherman prepare his cane, but then something catches my eye. The girl; the fully grown woman I correct myself, isn't ashamed. She isn't flinching either. I see a small change in her face. Was she enjoying this? Narrowing my eyes, I watch her closely. Is she subtly waving her pale bottom at us? I take a slow step over to Penelope, who seems to be transfixed. "This is wrong!" I whisper in her ear.

She blinks but doesn't look away. "There's no other choice..."

"Would you want Amelia here? No matter what she did?" I place my hand on her shoulder, and she jerks. The blonde's eyes clear, and she looks into mine.

"No." She says softly. Then the woman turns abruptly. "No. Stop, sir!"

The headmaster had just lined up the cane. "Ms. Pritchard?"

"We can't do this, sir. It's against everything we stand for."

Sherman looks confused. "We discussed this. You agreed that caning her would be a one-time..."

I step up. "Sir. The reason I took this position was because of how we treated the ladies. Nearly every other private school does this all too often. It is; barbaric."

I look over to Wastrope, and he blinks his eyes a few times. Then, slowly, he smiles in admiration. "Sir. I have to agree. What we are doing here is getting revenge. It doesn't solve the main problem we face."