Posts tagged ‘Hilary Wilmington’

December 11th, 2016

Lois and Miranda

Discipline in a girls boarding school

By Hilary Wilmington

“I’m terribly sorry,” said Roberta Smythe to the four younger girls ranged in front of her in Miss Acrington’s study. Her words were uttered with heavy, unmistakeable sarcasm. These four girls had been anticipating her apology with feelings of triumph, thinking the tables had been turned on their former tormentor. They looked apprehensive now, and more so when she added, in the same tone: “I wouldn’t dream of asking you to apologise to me for sneaking, of course.”

The headmistress’s face was a picture. Her deputy, Miss Denham, carefully avoided eye-contact with her, afraid that her expression would convey the message: ‘I told you so’.
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August 14th, 2016

Dress Code

A mother visits a headmaster to discuss the caning he gave her daughter

By Hilary Wilmington

“Mrs Megginson? Please do come in.”

She walked in with an inclination of her head and a gracious smile, although she did not say anything in reply.

“And Mr Megginson? Is he not with you?”

“Oh no, I’m afraid he’s far too busy at his work to be able to join us.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” replied the headmaster, insincerely. Dealing with one awkward parent was better than dealing with two and better still if that was the mother. He always felt more comfortable having dealings with the female of the species, which is possibly why he had ended up as headmaster of an all-girls boarding school. “I was just going from a note made by my secretary in my diary,” he explained. “She herself is unwell and hasn’t been in all week.”
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June 19th, 2016

Ellen’s Lucky Escape

A shop girl is caught stealing, and there are consequences. By a new writer to us.

By Hilary Wilmington

“I should have brought an umbrella,” thought Ellen, hearing the rain on the windows. When disaster was about to strike, as it was now, Ellen’s mind had a habit of straying elsewhere, to irrelevant things. She had not responded to Mr Barton’s last question, just sat there in silence. The implications were too awful to contemplate, so she didn’t contemplate them. There were rumours that Mr Barton’s wife had left him because she didn’t want to be the wife of a mere shop manager, although any of the local girls like Ellen would hardly have complained about being married to the manager of the largest (actually, the only) department store in the town. And so young! The wife must be very posh, she decided.
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