My shoulders relaxed as I read. It was just an invitation, for ex-students to return to the school to talk to students about future career prospects. They wanted me to talk about how I set up my businesses alongside some other girls. As I got to the end of the letter my heart stopped. It was signed Mr Bernard, Headmaster. There was a note to respond via email to confirm attendance and final details. Was this it? Was it time for payback?
Almost 20 years earlier
I slowly got up from my chair, the rusty metal legs grating sharply on the floor as I pushed it back. I remember looking at the door, the secretary calling me to the headmaster's office immediately. I could feel my class mates staring at me, my friends laughing, the rest whispering. All I could think was, ‘Shit, I've been caught.’
Exhaling deeply I hunched my shoulders and moved towards the door edging past the decrepit, smug-faced old secretary. She grinned a horrid yellow and black crooked smile at me and the evil glint in her eye confirmed my suspicions.
The school was built alongside a convent, set in an affluent suburban part of North London, surrounded by fields and woodland. The nearest bus and trains were 20 minutes walk in any direction so escape was probably pointless. Anyway, I’d have to come back eventually. Gulping, I realised this time bending the truth and being a little bit charming wasn't going to get me out of this.
My parents would go ballistic. I might get thrown out just before my final exams. So stupid. I’d have to wait a whole year to re-take. I’d miss the start of college….My train of thought was interrupted by Sister Marie stopping to enter her office.
“You’re in for it this time, girl.” She cackled as she shuffled into her office, the whiff of decay turning my face.
Shaking my head, I continued down the gloomy hallway, where the part of the school built in the 70’s joined the original building, built in the 1800’s. The chequered parquet floor had seen better days, as had the carpets. Everything was panelled in a dark walnut type wood, which seemed to absorb what little light there was.
I realised my palms were sweating as I smoothed them down my skirt. Although incorrect uniform was the least of my worries I took out my earrings and hid them in my pocket. Halfway through making a half assed attempt to fix my tie and tuck my shirt in the heavy panelled door to the headmaster’s office flew open and his ice-blue eyes locked with mine. As they pierced through me the world seemed to move into slow motion and I felt my mouth dry, my body freezing all but my eyes which had widened like a deer in headlights.
“Miss Jones, when I say you are to come to my office immediately, I mean immediately.”
The words to my response were spinning in my head. I knew I had to try and act fine but I knew I’d gone too far this time. My mouth moved like a goldfish, no words coming out.
“I’m going to close this door and you. You are going to start this again, Miss Jones, okay?”
“O-okay," I managed to stumble out.
The door slammed and I quickly pulled myself together. Fuck it. If I was going to get expelled I was going to do it with my head held high and without him seeing the satisfaction of me crying. I wasn’t a terrible student, I just had a natural rebellious streak. And was easily provoked. There were only 200 girls in the school so I’d spent a lot of time in this office.
I shook my head and pushed my shoulders back and knocked on the heavy door. I took a step back and listened for his response.
“Enter.” Came the bark, muffled through the heavy door.
I turned the brass knob and pushed, striding into the room towards the desk I thought Mr Bernard was sitting at. I stopped as I realised he wasn't there surveying the grand room. He was by the immense bay windows that overlooked the gravel driveway that led to the teacher’s car park. Warm sunlight filtered into the room highlighting the beautiful original features of the old building. Mr Bernard was pulling heavy wooden shutters across the window, blocking out the light and instantly changing the atmosphere in the room.
Suddenly shadows were cast as the only light in the room came from the various antique lamps dotted about the place. I felt like my heart stopped in my chest as he stopped and turned to face me. Again I was frozen by his stare. Starting at my feet, he began to look me up and down. I suddenly became very conscious of my uniform. I could see him mentally checking off the many infringements of the school rules; starting with my black trainers. We weren't even allowed those for PE.
Moving up I could see him take in the over the knee white socks. Fine, except where my skirt should have ended…. Instead of the regulation knee length, mine finished just where my hands lung limp my side. Suddenly I felt very self-conscious of the 3 inches of firm, tanned thigh that separated the top of my socks from the bottom of my high-waisted, navy pleated skirt. I’d just about managed to tuck my shirt in earlier, however I wasn’t wearing the blazer or jumper that we were supposed to wear at all times.
As he cast his eyes over my breasts I looked down. My bright red bra made me cringe, glaringly visible through the thin white summer shirt. The final violation was the tie. Done up loose and big, with the top two buttons of the shirt undone. I bit my lip. The silence in the gloomy room was becoming unbearable. I felt like I’d been sucked into some sort of horrible nightmare, till finally he spoke.
“It’s bad this time, Miss Jones,” he said looking straight through me in a deep calm quiet voice.
“I know I, I…” I stumbled.
“BE QUIET AND DO NOT SPEAK UNTIL SPOKEN TO!” Came his deafening roar of a reply.
Returning to his calm demeanor I felt my abdominal muscles clench as he continued.
“I haven’t called your parents yet…” A wave of relief flooded through me. “…but..”
“Please…” I interjected.
“ENOUGH!” He barked, moving towards me faster than I could react, pushing me backwards. I could feel the tears pricking my eyes when something in the room changed. He seemed to shrink back from me and his voice returned to a deep purr.
“I think you are a talented young lady, what you did was unspeakable. But, I’m giving you the opportunity to pass these exams and make something of your life. I do not want to see you back here apart from for your exams.” He bent down to meet my eye level and menacingly continued, “This isn't forgotten though. You owe me. One day. One day, I will get you back for this.”
***
I stubbed out the cigarette exhaling the last cloud of smoke long and deep. Mr Bernard couldn't have been much more than 40 when we were at school. He was a formidable man; muscular, tall and wide with fair hair and weathered tanned skin. His ice-blue, glinting eyes were superfluous to any of our school-girl charm. We all questioned why he would take a job in an all-girls convent school. We all thought it was a bit funny. Apparently he’d been in the Marines but for whatever reason couldn't serve anymore.
In hindsight you could see why the Sisters in the Convent liked having him around. He ruled with an iron fist so we never really paid much attention to his looks. It must have made them feel safer to have a strong man around. I sat at the kitchen table hands trembling and opened up the laptop.
To: m.bernard@saintmagdelenes.edu.uk
Re: Careers talk
Dear Mr Bernard,
Thank you for your kind offer, unfortunately on this occasion I will have to decline as I have prior engagements.
Apologies and best regards,
J Jones.
Short, simple. I gently closed the laptop and went on with my day trying to push the memories out of my head. I knew that message would most likely have infuriated him. I couldn't face having to talk about how they helped me succeed in life. I wouldn't do it.
Later that afternoon phone pinged and my heart beat fast as I read the message. ‘I retire this year and I intend to close all unfinished business before I do so. You will come to the school tomorrow evening 7pm. I will send you further instructions later.’
I groaned at myself, my mobile number was on my email signature. He didn't sign his name but I knew. Who did he think he was? I blushed as I thought back to what I did to him. Could I complain? What was the worst he could ask me to do? The next message made it pretty clear how bad it was going to be.
‘7pm, you are to park in the teachers car park, let yourself in the staff entrance. Formal school attire.’
I composed myself and got up to get ready for bed. I slept terribly, tossing and turning debating how I was going to deal with this. I’d carried the guilt of what I’d done for so many years. One night, I could take it all away.
I somehow dragged myself through the working day. As I pulled up my car I stopped and put my head on the steering wheel. I felt completely numb. I grabbed the shopping bags from the passenger footwell and made my way into my flat to get ready. Standing in my steaming hot shower, I let the water cascade over my face as I was deep in thought. I had to do something to repay him. I’d dress up for him. Let him have his kicks and leave.
I scrubbed myself with my favourite shower gel, massaging the suds into my toned body. My hands ran over my smooth breasts, round in circles getting smaller on the way up to the nipples. Hardening under my touch my hands moved down between my legs, my fingers grazing against my pussy lips. A cheeky smile crossed my face as I remembered the last night that I had been with my lover. I stopped myself getting carried away rinsed off and started getting dressed.
I had tried my best to pull together something resembling our uniform. I’d managed to find my old tie at least. Pulling on the over the knee white socks I was instantly taken back to my schoolgirl days. I did hate it at the time, in hindsight I had a brilliant social circle, we all had a lot of fun together at the time. I think maybe the strict environment bought us really close together. I didn't own flat black shoes so I put on a pair of plain black stilettos, shrugging. He was obviously just a nasty old man this was what he wanted?
I decided to keep make-up simple. A touch of mascara and lip gloss. I twisted my long hair up into a bun. I had to think hard about the underwear. Our uniform policy actually specified what underwear we had to wear; plain white briefs and bra when in uniform, and these monstrous navy ‘gym-pants’ your gran would be ashamed to be seen wearing. Well, I never followed the rules in school so I wasn't going to now.