July 2nd, 2015
When a girl gets into a fight, her friend comes to her aid, with consequences for them all.
By Jane Fairweather
Jennifer Ivens wound herself up for an ace. She was well aware this was something she rarely achieved, but with her score in the final set against her best friend Becky Hadlee at 40-30 and 5-3, she so wanted to win this match before Miss Compton, the Games Mistress, called an end to the afternoon’s activities. They had already had two ding dong sets and taken one each, and although it was only a games afternoon, something in Jennifer really wanted to win this. She let fly as hard as she could, fully expecting to miss and have to deploy her very solid second serve, but no. For once the ball landed perfectly and shot past Becky.
June 17th, 2015
A prefect is astonished to find herself in trouble and believes hersef innocent, until the facts emerge.
By Joanna Jones
Audrey Johnson sat quietly, feeling as bored as she normally did, at the back of the hall with her sixth form classmates as the assembly concluded. The Headmaster had just finished his school notices after his ‘message for the week’. As usual he then started on his ‘And finally’ section; his list of defaulters.
“And finally the following boys are to report to my office directly: Neville Marsh, 1C…”
A fairly tall first year boy, still in shorts, reluctantly stood in his place. A boy had to be in the third form before the privilege of long trousers was allowed at their grammar school.
June 15th, 2015
Good intentions go astray, with an unusual twist at the end
By Wendy A
When I was at boarding school in the 1960s we had a Housemistress, Miss Sophie Hill, who had a reputation for realism. She taught chemistry and her experiments were always on an industrial scale; if there is going to be an explosion then it had to be a big bang. Often her experiments had to be moved outside to avoid damage to the chemistry labs or a conflagration. There were often complaints from her fellow teachers who were not amused by the regular disruptions to their lectures when there was a loud explosion. She was much loved by her pupils who seemed to learn and remember chemical formulas by the spectacular reactions that could be produced.
June 13th, 2015
This is the eighth in a series of stand-alone stories about a strict yet caring headmaster and the girls at his school.
By Miss Em
(If you are new to The Girls of Brandon Academy Series you might want to read the Introduction to the first story in the series about Jessica Walker or the Prologue to Caught Red-Handed, story 7)
* * *
It was a beautiful Thursday afternoon in April. The girls had settled back into the school routine since their return from Easter/Spring Break. I had decided to cut my day short; I let my secretary leave early and I finished up my daily reports before two. I usually work until six o’clock in the evening, so I was looking forward to a nice walk back to my campus apartment, having an afternoon to catch-up on some of my reading, maybe watch a video before a leisurely dinner, and just have an all round pleasant, trouble-free afternoon and evening.
June 5th, 2015
An 18th birthday gift is well received, but then things go horribly wrong.
By Wendy A
I will never forget Christmas 1965. I was in my last year at St Mary’s, a prefect and in the first team for hockey. Rather than flying out to spend Christmas with my parents in India, the whole extended family was gathered at home in Oxfordshire. We had gathered to celebrate my Great Grandmother’s 100th birthday and for me, more importantly, my 18th birthday.
Our house was large by modern standards and could accommodate most of the close family; a few more distant relatives and friends had been placed at the local pub and a rather elegant hotel nearby.
June 4th, 2015
Another story in the series, this one looking back at matron’s youth.
By Tara Patterson
A request from the chairman of the School railway society reminds Matron Taylor of her past.
Matron Taylor thumbed through the pile of internal mail on her desk; email had not yet infiltrated the medical department of Queen Anne’s Boarding School, Ambleside. In the middle of the pile mixed in with all the ‘medical excused’ referrals, illness slips and accident reports was a hand-written card inviting her as an honoured guest to attend the 50th anniversary meeting of the school railway society?
As one of the earliest members of our railway society, and what we believe to be the first female member, we, the organising committee, warmly invite you to propose the vote of thanks for our speaker at the society’s 50th anniversary meeting. We are also delighted to receive your article for the society newsletter of your recollections of the society’s early days and your life as a railwayman’s daughter.
May 27th, 2015
Tara is asked to help Matron resolve a delicate situation.
By Tara Patterson
It was nearly the end of the 2015 exam season. Six weeks of Sixth form and GCSE Examinations had been intense and stressful not only for the pupils of Queen Anne’s Boarding School, Ambleside, but for all the staff too, especially 35 year old Tara Patterson who had been the main Examination Invigilator.
Tara awoke late on this June Tuesday morning. There were no time-tabled exams today and only two more to oversee before she must leave Queen Anne’s again and return to her normal life on the family farm in Lincolnshire. Tara had decided to make the most of this extra midweek day off and do some walking. Although she had been a pupil at the School for five years she had seen little of the tourist side of the Lake District. Trips outside the gates for pupils were strictly controlled.
May 24th, 2015
A new headmistress needs to find out more about her new school. She does it in a curious way. By a new writer to us.
Jack Masters walked into his new office, opened the Headmaster’s cupboard, and took off his coat. It was spring on the calendar, but still chilly enough to require a jacket.
He had just hung his coat on the hook when he heard a knock on the door. “Yes, come in,” he said.
A student entered, first peeking her head through the door, then coming in all the way. She was wearing the school’s traditional uniform; a crisp white shirt, white knee socks, black loafers with a Velcro strap, a blue blazer with the school crest, blue skirt, and blue and red rep tie. But most unusually for a student entering the Headmaster’s inner sanctum, the young woman was wearing an enormous grin.
May 22nd, 2015
An evening in the local pub leads to a break of Matron’s rules and a painful visit to the Headmaster
By Tara Patterson
“Come on Tara another drink won’t hurt,” said Tara’s Roommate, Clare Nicolson.
The two junior members of the school staff of Queen Anne’s Boarding School, Ambleside were enjoying a night out in a local pub to mark the end of their first month’s work at the school. They had hardly noticed the time had passed 9.00pm, the official curfew time of the dormitory floor they had lived on since joining the school staff and agreeing to abide by the ‘house’ rules.
“It’s gone curfew already,” warned Tara. “If we leave now then we might make it back before lights out. It’s a pity, this Windermere Pale is a very drinkable pint. You know my Young Farmer friends used to call me the beer monster.”
May 19th, 2015
An incident from years ago sparks memories.
By Jane Fairweather
It was one of those Christmases. It was the mid 1950s and a dark post-war greyness lay across the land. The two sisters had come to their parents’ large house in the Welsh hills and everyone was shrieking at everyone else. Maria, the youngest granddaughter, had flown in a rage at her elder sister Helen and been sent to her room. Their Mother and Aunt had escaped from the atmosphere of the house to go for a walk. Jane was more or less happily married to a man she had met while serving as a Wren in the War and had three children. Her sister, Susan, was still ambiguously single, though she was almost sure she was about to enter into a relationship with a younger woman, Helena Attwood, whose gentle humour always soothed her, and had the prettiest backside she had ever seen. But they had not known one another that long.