“So there I am, two weeks from the end of term, an eighteen year old senior, standing in front of Miss Hope’s desk, getting royally told off, just like a first year! Humiliated isn’t the word for how I felt right then and I didn’t like the feeling. I liked it even less when she opened her desk draw and removed a three-foot long, twin tailed leather strap called a tawse. I accepted that I had broken the school rules, but I had never thought that I would get beaten for doing so, but obviously that was her intent as she stood up rounding the desk, letting that instrument dangle in front of me.”
“Six strokes of the tawse she told me, six the number burned through my mind, six strokes! Hold out you left had Janice, trembling I did as I was told, although the desire to race from her presence ex
