Authors: Noël Cades
Despite this, Mrs Ayers continued to hand out punishments for the slightest, most spurious reason. Susie never complained. She simply used the detentions to study even harder at Geography. Her zeal mystified the others, who couldn’t see why anyone would put in so much effort for The Axe.
"It’s necessary," was all Susie said.
But Mrs Ayers alone knew that Susie had not submitted to her. So while she continued to hate and punish her, she began slightly to fear her.
Margery queried the endless detentions, but Susie just replied "give her enough rope."
* * *
Laura remained nauseous with misery and anxiety all day. It was miserable weather too, rainy with a blustering autumn wind, and the pitches got so waterlogged that matches were cancelled.
The only thing keeping everyone going was the thought of next weekend’s exeat. "Five more days," Charlotte counted. They were hanging out in the dorm because Teresa Hubert and her group had already claimed the common room. It simply wasn’t big enough for all of them.
A major task on the exeat weekend for many girls was to come back with an outfit for the half term dance. The Lower School formal was held the day before the Upper School event, but was considered no less important to those attending.
There were strict rules for outfits: skirts still below the knee, modest necklines, nothing too tight or clingy. Any girl wearing clothes considered unsuitable was required to change into her gym kit or return to her house. This was tantamount to the same thing, since no one could countenance appearing before the St Duncan’s boys in a tracksuit.
For Margery the entire affair was an ordeal as she was shy about her appearance. She also still had the wardrobe of a young girl, no one had realised that she was growing up and might need something more sophisticated. Most of the other girls planned to wear actual cocktail dresses, even off-the-shoulder. To get away with this usually required a last-minute hasty rearrangement of taffeta sleeves, once safely through the dress inspection.
Margery didn’t want to be the only girl there wearing a knee-length rah-rah skirt and baggy cardigan.
"We’ll go shopping on the exeat," Laura promised her.
Margery doubted her local village shops would have anything. Maybe she could persuade her father to drive them into the town.
Laura was looking forward to staying with Margery, but now she couldn’t think past this weekend: spending two entire days with minimal chance of seeing Mr Rydell.
Susie returned back from her scheduled hours of punishment. Fortunately it had been Mr Tyrrell rostered on to monitor the miscreants this weekend, and he barely noticed what anyone did. Which in Susie’s case was reading a forbidden novel masked with the dust jacket of a school library book.
"You’re not still going through with your plan, are you, Susie?" Margery said. She still couldn’t believe that Susie would actually dare to spend an entire weekend hidden in Darius’s and Julian’s dormitory at St Duncan’s. It was an absolutely mad scheme.
"Of course. I could hardly cancel now, they’re expecting me."
* * *
Susie and Laura eventually found some time to talk alone in the music building. They were fed up with being cooped up at Michaelmas House, so early on Saturday evening they braved the foul weather and made their way there.
The practice rooms were usually occupied at the weekend, but they rightly guessed that even the keenest musicians would be reluctant to go out in the current downpour. All four boarding houses were a long walk away from the music building.
Inside they had their pick of empty rooms. Laura sat on a piano stool, and Susie pushed some sheet music out of the way and perched on the table, swinging her legs.
"Monday then," Susie said. "The big showdown with the handsome Mr Rydell."
Laura felt embarrassed. "Nothing’s going to happen in front of everyone. He’ll probably just ignore me and try to pretend it never happened."
"I don’t think he’ll leave it at that. It wouldn’t be safe, just to assume you’d drop it as well. Plus there’s the fact that he likes you strongly enough to have crossed the line in the first place. It’s not like it was just a peck on the lips, it all sounded pretty full on from what you said. I suspect he’s wrestling with his conscience."
"What would you do?" Laura asked. "I mean if he just says nothing and that’s it. Or says it’s a bad idea."
"If I were you? If I really liked him, really and truly and utterly, I wouldn’t take no for an answer."
How did one "not take no for an answer"? What did it even mean?
"Do you think he’s worried about the age gap?"
"Undoubtedly. But I shouldn’t let it worry you. Bisnonna was only fourteen when she married my great-grandfather, and he was nearly thirty," Susie told her. "And Juliet, and the Virgin Mary."
All these examples seemed so remote, lost in time and history. Laura couldn’t feel a connection to them.
"Dear Diary, I’m so nervous about Monday I feel sick. Susie is the only person I can talk to. I just have to get this over with. I don’t even know what I want. I need to think like Susie, not like me."
Laura could hardly breathe during the next German lesson. She was on edge the entire time, wanting to avoid looking at Mr Rydell but not being able to stop. He had them write out exercises, and spent much of the class marking work. He rarely looked up.
The lesson went agonisingly slowly. She didn’t know if she was more terrified that he might just try to pretend it never happened, or if he confronted her about it. Would he be angry?
She studied him at his desk. His eyes were fixed on the books he was correcting, his face set and resolute. Look at me, she willed. Please look at me and give me some kind of sign. At least let me know you don’t hate me.
Trying to concentrate on her own work was very hard. But she didn’t want to mess it up in case it looked like she was deliberately trying to give him cause to detain her. That was Teresa Hubert’s pathetic trick. Laura wanted him to approach her on his own terms.
When the bell went everyone else scrambled to leave, since it was break time. She picked up her things more reluctantly.
"Cathy, Laura, could you both stay behind for a moment."
This was it.
Mr Rydell deliberately didn’t even look at her as he gave the order. Her stomach was churning worse than she could remember.
He also looked more devastating to her than he ever had before, serious and commanding. His lips were set in a firm line. He also seemed taller than ever, so much older than her. What was she even thinking that he might be seriously interested in someone like her, just a schoolgirl?
He dealt with Cathy first. She had missed classes through illness, and he was setting her the work she needed to do to catch up. It only took a couple of minutes, and then she scuttled away.
Now it was just the two of them. Laura was so nervous she felt nauseous. He began. He spoke looking directly at her and yet even though he met her eyes it felt like he was speaking from behind a screen.
"I would like to apologise to you for what happened the other day. It was completely unacceptable of me. I won’t try to make excuses, but I can promise you it will never happen again."
She said nothing, only looked back at him. At his eyes, the faint shadows she also saw around them. He had lost sleep too.
"This won’t make any difference to how I treat you in class. It was entirely my fault," he continued.
It sounded rehearsed. He was saying what he knew he had to say, not what he wanted to say. It gave her courage.
What would Susie do?
Don’t take no for an answer.
Still without speaking, Laura went up to him. She put her hands on either side of his face, and pulled him down to kiss her. He didn’t have time to react, to step back.
As soon as her lips were on his he closed his eyes, and he groaned as the kiss deepened. "Laura…" he said, the start of a protest, but his arms went around her and she clung to him.
It was insanity. Anyone could have walked past.
She felt the heat of him again, tasted him. She wanted to drown in him. He returned the kiss in full measure.
"It wasn’t just you," she said as she broke away.
He sat on the edge of the desk, and looked directly at her. She remained standing, and their eyes were at the same level.
"Is this what you want?" he asked.
For a second she was terrified, but there was only one answer. She could barely whisper.
"Yes."
"I’m not a schoolboy, Laura. I can’t have a relationship with you on those terms. It’s all or nothing."
He was trying to scare her, to put her off. He wanted her to be the one to decide against this, to run away.
To spare them both.
But the sight of him, the smell of his skin, the thought of his hands on her, the thought of just being with him overtook her.
"It’s still yes."
He stood and brought her to him again, kissing her more tenderly this time. It was gentle, exploring her, his tongue intertwining with hers, promising what was to come.
Then he broke off and became more businesslike. "Where are you going for exeat this weekend?"
"To Margery’s."
"Can you cancel? Come and stay with me. When everyone’s leaving, come to the cottage. I’ll be there before you as I don’t have a class at the end of the day."
What was she going to tell Margery?
"Okay."
"If you can’t manage it or you change your mind it’s okay. Just let me know."
"I won’t change my mind."
* * *
The rest of the week passed agonisingly slowly, in a different kind of limbo. Laura was carrying this huge secret but she had to sit through German classes with him as normal. A couple of times when he glanced at her she thought she saw a question in his eyes. He was uncertain as well. They were both getting into something unknown.
Margery was very disappointed when Laura withdrew from their plans. Laura managed to imply, without actually stating it, that she was instead going to stay with Mr and Mrs Jones, the guardian couple in town.
"I can’t think why you want to visit them all of a sudden. Yes I do. It’s a boy, isn’t it?"
Laura felt ashamed for deceiving Margery. "Sort of."
"It either is or it isn’t. It’s that boy from St Duncan’s, the one you write to. I hope he’s worth it." Margery was still bitter over the Pudding.
"I really am sorry Margery. I can’t fully explain."
"What you mean is that you don’t think I’ll understand."
Laura vowed to herself that she would tell Margery eventually. She hated keeping secrets this important from her friends. But she had no choice. The risk one was thing. But her own conflicted emotions also held her back. Until she had figured out her own feelings she couldn’t bring herself to tell them.
* * *
Teresa Hubert, who always had an eye for stirring the pot, noticed that Margery was glum and withdrawn. She didn’t care for Margery at all but thought there might be advantage in extending friendship.
Margery was not quite so easily won. Teresa had been spiteful towards her since the fourth form so she didn’t trust her at all.
Sidling up to her between classes one morning Teresa tried to open a conversation. "What are you doing for exeat? Did you invite Laura again?"
It wasn’t any of Teresa’s business but Margery was piqued by Laura’s change of plans. "No, she had to stay with her town guardians."
"How odd," said Teresa, scenting opportunity. "She always stays with you, doesn’t she?"
Margery knew when Teresa was digging and didn’t rise to the bait. Even if Laura had flaked out on her she was still her friend.
"What are you wearing to the formal?" Teresa asked, changing the subject. She strongly suspected that Margery wouldn’t have anything appropriate. Whenever they were in mufti - out of school uniform - Margery always looked very frumpy.
"I haven’t decided yet."
"I expect that Susie Clarke will wear something tarty. She’s quite a slag, isn’t she?"
Margery was not yet loyal enough to Susie to defend her to the fullest, particularly as she had felt shut out by her friendship with Charlotte. And recently she seemed as thick as thieves with Laura.
"I really wouldn’t know," she said, not taking a position.
Teresa smiled nastily, and left.
* * *
Charlotte was starting to excel at hockey. Something had clicked with her, mentally and physically, and she had gone from being a good player to exceptional.
Unbeknownst to Miss Partridge it was Charlotte’s dalliance with the St Duncan’s boys that had triggered the change. Julian, the boy who had flirted with her, was the school rugby captain. He had even written to her a couple of times which had been flattering though she suspected she wasn’t the only iron in his fire.
Charlotte was naturally competitive. Julian’s attention not only gave her confidence but it made her want to match his success.
It was a wild dream for a Lower School girl to make the First Eleven hockey team though it had been achieved in the past. And the Seconds were certainly achievable even if the current team was composed entirely of sixth formers.
Charlotte knew fewer girls liked to play on the left wing so she yielded her coveted place as right wing to Teresa Hubert and started playing on the left whenever she could. She found it harder in some ways but it also gave her a better tactical perspective.
"What’s come over you? You’re like a machine," one of the other girls complained, struggling to keep up with her in drills.
Charlotte had also worked on becoming fitter and faster. There were a couple of sixth form girls who did competitive cross country and trained in their spare time, so she joined them. They were hearty girls who didn’t mind if they were running with a Lower School girl so long as she didn’t hold them back.
It didn’t take long before her hockey game began to transform. Miss Partridge had no idea what was behind Charlotte’s quantum leap in progress but she did start to think about trying her out for the senior squad.