Archive for ‘School & College Stories’

August 13, 2014

The Bench

A quiet girl faces an awful dilemma.

By Kenny Walters

A cautious glance round the corner confirmed Mrs Wilson was alone. She seemed quite busy, going by the quick tapping beat played out on her sturdy old typewriter. Angela was never sure about Mrs Wilson. Actually, Angela had hardly ever spoken to the lady. It was just her manner; always clothed in a tweed suit, her grey hair always kept short and permed, well-spoken but always economical in words, unsmiling.

“Um,” Angela advanced further round the corner so she could see the wooden counter behind which Mrs Wilson sat, and the school secretary could see her.

August 3, 2014

The Twins are summoned to a crisis meeting at St Mary’s

Next in the series, the twins behaviour continues to disappoint.

By Penny Morton

Part 1

“I hope you girls are not talking.” The harsh voice of Miss Gregory, headmistress of St Mary’s School, rang out across her study. “If you have any sense, which I seriously doubt, you will remain silent whilst we decide what to do with you.”

“No, Madam, we weren’t talking.” Replied Angela Spencer from the far corner of the room where she and her twin sister, Julie, were standing facing the wall. Angela’s answer wasn’t completely true. They had whispered very quietly to each other in their corner.

As Angela spoke, she and her sister looked over their shoulders at the group of people sitting round Miss Gregory’s desk. They were having what Miss Gregory called a ‘Crisis Meeting’ called to decide what to do with and about the Spencer twins, who were in serious danger of having to leave their university before completing their first term.

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July 29, 2014

Midsummer Madness

An unexpected win at netball and over-exuberant celebrations lead to trouble.

By Jane Fairweather

“We won, we won; hurray, hurray! We won, we won; hurray, hurray!”

The senior girls of Cavell house were walking arm in arm, interspersing their chants with frequent shrieks. An observer might have been forgiven for thinking they had consumed more than a little alcohol, but the truth was they had got very high watching their house’s netball team scrape a win in the final of the house cup against Nightingale by a single goal. Nightingale always won everything. Since the brightest girls and the best games players were automatically put into Nightingale their dominance was scarcely a matter of surprise; but it was a matter of great pleasure to the other houses when Nightingale were defeated.

July 13, 2014

The Girls of Brandon Academy: Caught Red-Handed

Two girls caught trying to cheat have to face the consequences

By Miss Em from the USA

Prologue

I am Eric Davenport, Headmaster of The Brandon Academy, a boarding school for girls between the ages of 14 to 19. The school is tucked away on fifty acres of beautiful rolling hills in southern New York. Reverend Thomas K Brandon, the former headmaster and now President of our school board, appointed me to this position in 1964, after being both an instructor and a housemaster for eight years. I am responsible for the well-being, education, and discipline of the 200 girls residing here, as well as the everyday running of the school and its facilities.

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July 5, 2014

The Janet Webster Story

An insight into the discipline at a north of England school.

By Gillian Howard

Hi I am Janet Webster and I attended a mixed Grammar School in the north of England from 1957 to 1964. At school we had to wear school uniform at all times; the boys wore white shirt and grey trousers and maroon blazer and cap; the girls wore maroon skirt and white shirt with maroon knickers and maroon blazer with a straw boater with maroon band and white knee length socks; both wore a maroon and grey tie. Failure to wear full uniform would result in corporal punishment.

The school had a very good reputation for behaviour and both educational and sporting achievements. The Headmaster was very proud of this reputation and tried to instil the same pride into the pupils.

June 20, 2014

They Think It’s All Over, It Is Now

The next part of the ‘Swishing Sixties’ series

By Dick Templemeads

It was 3rd August 2012 and Jessica Richardson had just witnessed Great Britain’s exit in the quarter final of the Ladies’ Football in the Olympic Games.

Jessica had viewed the Ladies’ football in a state of mixed emotion. Disappointed that the host nation had just fallen short of the medal positions, she also experienced a sense of pleasure and regret in equal measure.

Pleasure, that over the last few years Ladies’ football, cricket and rugby, had started receiving the recognition which they deserved, being taken seriously as competitive and entertaining events. Regret, that she had not been born forty years later, for in her time Jessica had excelled at football, winning 35 England caps.

June 20, 2014

Stacey’s Gym Skirt (A Sequel to Yes Miss)

The judicial officer returns to school

by Katie Hammond

The sound which started so faintly grew louder and louder, invading my other-worldly dream. I then awoke enough to realise it was the alarm clock and desperately stuck out my arm to turn it off. I couldn’t understand why I had left it on; I didn’t have to get up on a Sunday. Then I had that awful feeling in the pit of my stomach, it’s Monday.

Yes, it really was Monday we had met up with friends for a meal on Sunday night and, yes, I probably did have one or two glasses of red wine too many and the evening passed far too quickly. I turned over and looked at my boyfriend; he was still fast asleep, lucky that he didn’t have to be up.

June 7, 2014

The Martyr

A story about a student teacher when teacher training was rather different.

By Jane Fairweather

“I don’t suppose, Mr Brown, you would be interested in learning a little Latin as well as the more normal things we have been doing?” Mr Shufflebottom enquired nervously, not really looking at his pupil teacher, William Brown, for he was well aware the suggestion would probably be regarded as eccentric.

The normally rather over-enthusiastic pupil muttered something about his being unlikely to teach in a school where it was required. Mr Shufflebottom, who had sunk somewhat down the ladder by taking on this elementary school in the Yorkshire Dales out of a mixture of social duty and failure to pass even the fourth class in his finals at Oxford, sighed a little. He had a weakness for Latin, especially Ovid, which was resurrecting itself in this little Yorkshire village, despite the years of dilatoriness at University. And it would have been good to have communicated it to his pupil teacher. Latin literature, thought Mr Shufflebottom, is not merely for snobs; it has more about people as they are than most books in English.

May 26, 2014

Respect

A lack of respect for their headmaster leads the girls into deeper trouble. previously published on the old website.

by Kenny Walters

Sara Hailsham glanced all around the neat and tidy sitting room, taking considerable pride in the spotless appearance of her home, a large five bedroom house on the outskirts of town. The clock ticking gently on the mantlepiece told her that Emma should have been home from sixth form college at least half an hour ago.

‘Talking to her friends, no doubt.’ She said to herself. ‘I’ll put the kettle on. She can’t be much longer.’

Even before Sara had turned towards the kitchen, the telephone rang.

May 25, 2014

Take Down Your Knicks in Room 66

By Dick Templemeads

The next part in the ‘Swishing Sixties’ series

Moira O’Shea, principal of The Latimer Independent School for Young Ladies, looked down at the target in a mood which combined anger and frustration with a surprising and somewhat grudging admiration.

The target in question was the shapely bottom of Chloe Richardson, a lean and pretty eighteen year old brunette who, not for the first time in recent months, was bent over in Room 66, the head teacher’s study, hands on knees, skirt raised above her waist and her knickers, today a dainty lilac pair, arranged around her ankles.

Mrs OShea eyes the bottom already etched with seven red welts and delays the eighth and final stroke which she plans to be the hardest that she’s ever delivered. Yet even as she waits to receive, and despite the pain she must surely be experiencing, Chloe shows no signs of emotion, just a very slight wiggle of her bottom and a slight tensing of her well-striped posterior as the head draws back the senior cane to above her shoulder and whips it down onto the waiting cheeks of the pretty girl. Chloe’s bottom bounces as the weapon lands, but she does no more than gasp, remaining in position, as the Head returns the cane to the rail on which it hangs along with its other thinner and less punitive partners, in a cupboard long reserved for storing canes, several slippers and two thick rulers kept for lesser offences.