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Stories • A day in class with Miss Rawlings

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After attending assembly, Nina Rawlings made her way to the staff room. Despite her young age she was already head of the history department at the large mixed comprehensive school where she had been for the last three years. Her fastidious attention to detail in her work and appearance had already marked her out as future headmistress material. This had not endeared her to some older members of the staff room. Her strict approach to discipline had not endeared her to her pupils either. Back in the staffroom, Miss Rawlings went through her regular routine of checking her hair and clothes, much go the amusement of certain members of staff.

"You're seams aren't straight," called one male teacher.

Miss Rawlings looked round at the back of her legs and then glared at the joker. “Very funny Martin,” she snapped.

She then picked up her bag and a pile of exercise books and headed off for her first lesson. She rounded the corner and into the corridor, where her classroom was at the far end. Outside each classroom, a gaggle of boys and girls had gathered and they all parted as Miss Rawlings swept imperiously through. As she walked along her heels clicked on the polished woodblock floor and there was a swish, swish as the tops of her nylons rubbed together. After she had passed, several girls poked their tongues out and some boys made rude gestures. As they heard Miss Rawlings approach, those outside her classroom quickly formed an orderly line and waited in silence. Any girl caught talking would receive a painful stroke of the cane across her hand, in the case of a boy it was across his backside. Miss Rawlings arrived at the door and unlocked it. She went inside, the class of fourteen-year-olds followed in an orderly fashion and went and stood behind their desks. She went to her desk, placed her bag and books on her desk and sat down.

“Good morning class.”

“Good morning Miss,” they replied in unison.

“You may sit.”

There was a shuffling of feet and chairs.

“Without scraping your chairs on the floor. Someone has to polish the floor after you inconsiderate little brats have been in here,” shouted Miss Rawlings.

When everyone had settled and were sitting up straight with arms folded, Miss Rawlings turned her attention to the books on her desk. “Jordan, will you come and collect the books and distribute them.”

A girl from the front row of desks stepped forward. Miss Rawlings never referred to any pupil by their first name. The girl took the books, except one, which Miss Rawlings had put aside, and went around the room giving them out. The room was light and airy with pictures and posters on the walls of famous people of the past and historic events. On the window sills and Miss Rawlings desk were pot plants and vases of brightly coloured flowers. Miss Rawlings was an avid gardener outside of school, as well as running the school gardening club. After she had distributed the books, Jordan sat down.

“Who has not received their book?” asked Miss Rawlings.

A boy put his hand up.

“Would you care to inform the class as to why your book was not returned,” said Miss Rawlings.

“I ha……..” began the boy.

“Stand up Baker, so that we can all see you,” ordered Miss Rawlings.

Baker stood up, face turning red with embarrassment.

“Pray continue,” said Miss Rawlings.

“I handed my book in late.”

“And what happens to anyone handing their book in late?”

Baker swallowed hard before answering. “They get the cane Miss.”

“They do indeed Baker, so you know what to do don’t you?” said Miss Rawlings.

“Yes Miss.” Baker left his desk, walked to the door, with all eyes fixed on him, and went outside.

Miss Rawlings got up, took a key from her bag and then went to a cupboard with glass doors in the top half. From a shelf, she took a straight cane and herself made for the door. Next to her classroom was a large walk-in store cupboard, which was where Miss Rawlings took her pupils for caning. Baker was waiting nervously outside the storeroom door. Miss Rawlings unlocked the door and Baker went in followed by Miss Rawlings. She locked the door from the inside to prevent any interruption.

“Now Baker, as this is your first time I shall be lenient with you, do it again and you won’t be sitting comfortably for several days, do I make myself clear?”

“Yes Miss.”

“Very well, bend over.”

Baker dutifully bent over and held his ankles. Miss Rawlings pulled back his blazer and got into position. She then raised the cane and whipped it down hard across Baker’s tightly stretched grey trousers. It made a resounding thwack; Baker flinched, but made no sound. Bad form to cry out during a caning even if out of earshot of the rest of the class. The second was a repeat of the first with Baker throwing his head back and face contorted in pain. The third brought a loud gasp. “Stand up,” ordered Miss Rawlings.

Baker stood up and his hands flew to his throbbing backside.

“Go and stand in front of my desk,” ordered Miss Rawlings.

Baker unlocked the door and went out followed by Miss Rawlings who locked it again. Baker went back into the classroom, hoping that no one would notice his watery eyes, and stood in front of Miss Rawlings desk. He was longing to rub his backside further, but this would indicate that she had hurt him. Miss Rawlings returned the cane and then went to her desk. She picked up Baker’s book and opened it at his homework page. She tore out the appropriate pages, crumpled up the paper and threw it in the wastebasket. “Do it again and hand it in tomorrow morning without fail.”

A very sore and unhappy Baker took the book and returned to his desk, easing himself gently onto his chair. The class watched the whole episode in absolute silence , although words had been exchanged while Miss Rawlings was out of the room. The lesson continued in silence and at the end, the class was dismissed. Miss Rawlings waited for the next class to arrive. This was a class of first years, who, because of their age, were quite fidgety. She went to the door and looked out to find the next group lining up ready to come in.

“Come in.”

The class came in and stood behind their chairs. Miss Rawlings went through the same procedure as with the previous class and was then ready to start. The lesson had just started when the door opened and a young girl burst in.

“Sorry I’m late Miss.”

“May one enquire as to why you are late?”

“I forgot one of my books, had to go back and find it Miss.”

“Go and wait outside.”

“I’m so sorry Miss,” pleaded the girl.

“Outside,” ordered Miss Rawlings, pointing to the door.

The disconsolate girl left the room and Miss Rawlings took the key from her bag and fetched the cane from the cupboard. She then left the room with the threat that anyone found talking or out of their place would be caned. She unlocked the door to the store cupboard and took the girl in. “Hold out your hand,” said Miss Rawlings in a clipped voice.

The girl slowly produced her hand and Miss Rawlings, with some irritation, put it in the right position. She whipped the cane down across the girl’s palm, which brought an instant yelp of pain and a biting of her lip.

“Other hand.”

The girl produced her other hand and held it in the correct position. Miss Rawlings repeated the treatment. She then led the girl outside with her hands under her armpits. The girl was about to return to the classroom when Miss Rawlings held her back. She had deliberately left the door ever so slightly ajar, and could hear voices from within. She put her hand on the door handle and flung open the door. Caught you, she thought. She had indeed caught somebody; in fact, it was a boy and girl talking to each other. “You two, come here,” she yelled.

With horrified looks on their faces, the two miscreants left their seats. Miss Rawlings turned to the girl behind her and told her to go and sit down.

“What did I say about talking when I was out of the room?”

The boy and girl looked at one another.

“Well, I’m waiting,” snapped Miss Rawlings.

“We mustn’t talk,” said the girl.

“So why were you talking?”

“Don’t know Miss,” replied the boy.

“Get into the storeroom,” ordered Miss Rawlings angrily, looking at the boy.

Head bowed, the boy trudged into the storeroom.

“You, wait outside,” said Miss Rawlings angrily to the girl.

The girl, almost in tears by now, stood outside after Miss Rawlings went in and closed the door. She immediately heard Miss Rawlings raised voice as she heard her giving the boy a good telling off. Then there was silence. The girl knew what was happening and waited for the first swish and thwack of the cane. It came, and was followed by three more. There was silence after the first two but the girl heard cries of pain after the second two. After a short interval, the door opened and the tearful boy came out holding his bottom. He walked straight past the girl and went into the classroom. Inside the room, the girl saw Miss Rawlings, who beckoned her to come in. After a stern lecture which actually brought the girl to tears it was time for the girl’s punishment.

“Hold your hand out,” ordered Miss Rawlings. A young girl in tears had no effect on Miss Rawlings, she had a heart of stone. The girl held out a trembling hand and Miss Rawlings whipped down the cane, The girl screamed and snatched her hand away.
“Put it back,” ordered Miss Rawlings.

The girl slowly returned her hand and immediately Miss Rawlings repeated the treatment. This time the girl thrust her hand beneath her knees.

“When you’re ready, I’ll have the other hand please,” said Miss Rawlings sarcastically.

The girl bravely thrust out her hand and it received the same treatment.

“Now return to class,” ordered Miss Rawlings.

In floods of tears, the girl returned to her desk, followed by Miss Rawlings. She sat down, hands between her knees and cried for nearly the rest of the lesson. Completely unmoved, Miss Rawlings returned the cane to its place and resumed the lesson. At the end of the lesson, it was morning break and Miss Rawlings went off to the staffroom for what she considered a well-earned cup of tea.

Statistics: Posted by lisamum10 — Wed Aug 09, 2017 4:55 pm



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