Sarah Porter's schooldays (01)

Warning : This tale is from "Garmonbozia".
All rights to this tale are reserved. It may not be transmitted to the public by any means (such as Internet) and may not be changed in any way without the author expressed written permission.

PP

Sarah Porter's schooldays

Chapter 1 - In which Sarah arrives at Harkwood Academy :

The large stone edifice of Harkwood rose up through the trees at the end of the gravel drive, looking like something from the opening scene of a Merchant Ivory film. It was Sarah Porter's first look at her new school. The taxi took almost five minutes to traverse the winding gravel road from the front gate and the closer she came to her destination, the more apprehensive Sarah became.

She was excited to be sure, but a new school was always something to be nervous about. A new school in a new country was definitely something to be nervous about. It was a great opportunity, she had to keep telling herself that. Just because her stepdad wanted her out of the way didn't mean she shouldn't be grateful. When she had researched the school on the internet it had great credentials, a brilliant academic record and curriculum. Just what she had always wanted. She knew she should be happy, but to fly all the way to England to a boarding school at 16 was just a little scary.

Sarah heard the crunch of gravel as the cab pulled away and drove back to the town. She must have been daydreaming as she hadn't even realised they had arrived. She turned back to the imposing wooden doors set in the great, grey stone building. Sarah stood there, her two bags beside her - all her possessions in the world now. She was only 5 foot tall and slender and standing before this old gothic building made her think of the horror stories by Lovecraft that she loved so much. She almost expected to see a great tentacled horror burst through the thick metal banded oak doors.

She gave a small shiver, picked up her bags and moved up the few wide stone steps. It was late afternoon, and even though it was the middle of summer, the day was overcast, something she thought she would need to get used to now she was in England, and slightly chilly. She pulled her coat a little tighter and was so glad she was wearing stockings under her jeans. She wanted to get inside, to see her new school and get settled. Her hand trembled a little as she reached for the large iron ring set in the middle panel of the doors and knocked twice.

Almost instantly the doors opened and she was greeted by a smiling bearded face.

"Hello miss, and what would you be wanting here?"
"Um, I'm Sarah Porter," she mumbled.

Even though he was smiling this giant of a man was an imposing figure. Well over six foot tall and well built, he exuded power.

"Sarah Porter is it? And who's Sarah Porter when she's at home?"

Sarah was unsure what to say to this, obviously some quaint English colloquialism. He definitely had an odd way of speaking in questions which was slightly off-putting.

"Um, I... I'm a new student here at Harkwood. I've just arrived," Sarah stammered, indicating her bags on the ground beside her.
"Ah well then, you had better come in hadn't you?"

With that he moved out of the doorway and motioned for her to come inside. She picked up her bags and moved through the large door into the hallway beyond, a little chagrined that he had not offered to help her with her bags. After all he probably could have picked them up with his pinkies.

"We had better be off to the headmistress hadn't we? You're already late and we don't want you getting in any more trouble now do we?"

More trouble? What was he on about? Sarah did have to admit she was late though. Her flight had been delayed and then she had stopped off to post a few postcards in London but school did not start for another week. She had heaps of time to get to know the place. She picked up her bags and struggled after the man's figure as it retreated down a corridor to her left. She had to admit he had a definite appeal, his obviously muscular physique was not lost on the girl. She could get used to following him around, even if he did look ten years older than her.

Halfway down the corridor, he stopped and knocked at a door. Sarah was just catching up to him as he opened the door and stepped inside. She arrived just as the door was closing.

"Headmistress Mrs P Huffington-Smythe," Sarah read off the gold lettering embossed on the door. Wow, what a mouthful she thought to herself. Sarah could hear muffled voices from behind the door and was just about to lean in a little closer when it sprang open, the handsome man strode out and off down the hall without another word to the startled girl.

"Enter," rang a rather stentorian voice. Sarah stood staring down the corridor a little astonished at the rudeness of the man. Weren't the English supposed to be polite?

"Are you deaf or a dullard?"

Sarah jumped, grabbed her bags and hurried inside the room. The large office was beautifully appointed, richly decorated with thick burgundy carpet, leather chairs and a stunning mahogany table. The walls were covered in portraits in elaborate, baroque frames. Sarah's eyes drank in the finery of the room, she had never seen it’s like. It had the air of a royal palace.

"Dullard it is then." proclaimed the woman seated behind the large wooden desk that dominated one side of the room. Sarah blushed, pulling her gaze from surveying the walls and beheld the speaker. The woman would have been in her 40's but she was very attractive. She had a poise and grace that Sarah found enigmatic and simultaneously made her feel surprisingly inadequate. She dropped her bags and stepped forward with her hand extended.

"Hi I'm Sarah Por..."
"SILENCE."

Sarah was stunned. The sheer volume and violence of the word startled her and she took a step backwards, instinctively looking towards the door.

"Pick up those bags, walk to the door and place them neatly to one side against the wall, then come back and stand there," the headmistress said, indicating a spot in front of her desk, her eyes never leaving those of the frightened young girl.

Sarah picked up her bags and walked them meekly to the door. Five minutes in and she was already questioning her presence here, so far from home. Sarah made her way back to the desk and stood in front of this stern woman, so much different from the headmaster at her old school. Old Mr Jamison was really friendly.

"That is not where I told you to stand. Move to your right."

Sarah raised an eyebrow questioningly but took a step to her right, wondering what possible difference it made where she stood, but looked to the headmistress for approval.

"Uppity little prig aren't you?"

Sarah had no idea what a prig was but she was sure it wasn't complimentary.

"No Mrs Hufflington Smith, I am not," Sarah said obsequiously. Better not anger her any further, after all day one is not the best day to start being in trouble Sarah thought to herself.

"How dare you! You have a lot to learn little miss. Being from such a cultureless country is no excuse for the ignorance and crassness of the individual. You shall address me as Ma'am and you have earned yourself one infraction for impudence. Do you understand?"

"Yes Ma'am," mumbled Sarah, though she had no understanding at all of what was going on.
"Speak up, mumbling is indicative of ill-breeding, as if we needed anymore evidence of that in your case," proclaimed the headmistress as she leant back in her chair.

"Yes Ma'am," Sarah said more loudly this time.
"Yes Ma'am what?"
"Um, yes Ma'am I understand," Sarah said uncertainly.
"I highly doubt you do but I do not wish to be here all night."

The headmistress opened a folder before her on the desk.

"Sarah Josephine Porter, 16 years of age. American," this last was said with a disdainful curl of the lip. "Your father has arranged for your tuition here for the next two years."

At the mention of the word 'father' Sarah opened her mouth to speak but quickly caught herself. He wasn't her father, just the latest rich bastard her mother had managed to dig her hooks into.

"Stand up straight. Shoulders back, feet shoulders width apart. Arms behind your back, hands in the small of your back, right palm resting in the left. Elbows back."

Sarah was a little shocked, too shocked to move. The instructions had almost been spat at her, so quickly and so forcefully had they come. The headmistress stood up slowly. She moved with a quiet grace that was tinged with menace. Sarah quickly shuffled herself into position wondering what kind of school her stepfather had enrolled her in. She knew it was a prestigious finishing school but she had never thought it might be one of those 19th century disciplinarian schools, like something out of Dickens.

The headmistress walked slowly past Sarah, the silk sleeves of her blouse almost brushing the trembling body of the young girl. Sarah turned her head to watch where she was going.

"Eyes front."

Sarah snapped her head back forward. How had she known? She couldn't have seen her. Sarah felt something hard and heavy placed on the top of her head. She instinctively moved away but was caught by the arm in a vicelike grip that began to hurt immediately.

"Stand still until you are told to move. Now head up and eyes forward."

Sarah did as she was told and quickly realised that a book had been placed on her head.

"When you are standing to attention you stand like this. And when you are in the presence of any teacher or authority figure you will be standing at attention unless told otherwise. Slovenliness is not something tolerated in any girl at Harkwood. Your eyes stay to the front, curiosity is not becoming in a girl. You wait until you are given a point of focus and then you focus on that."

The headmistress circled Sarah as she spoke, moving in and out of her field of vision, providing constant temptation to move her head or eyes to follow the movement. Sarah held firm and focused on a portrait hanging on the wall behind the large desk, presumably a previous headmistress.

As she sat back down Sarah's eyes moved to follow her. She was facing forward and thought it was the right thing to do to look at someone as they spoke to you.

"One infraction for disobedience and one infraction for poor posture," the headmistress said resignedly. Sarah's eyes snapped back up and refocused on the portrait.
"I personally find slow learners to be quite tedious, but many of your teachers will find this a challenge. Do you understand your current position Porter?"
"Um, yes Ma'am."
"Well describe it to me."

Sarah had not quite thought that question through. She had just felt it better to agree and the consequences were not long in coming. What did she mean, position. She couldn't come up with anything better and she knew time was critical.

"I am standing at attention Ma'am," Sarah said, hoping this was right. She was feeling very confused and just a little stupid - not something she was used to at all.
"Go on."
"Um, I am standing..."
"If you say um one more time you will earn yourself another infraction. Um is what stupid people say to try and get their brain to work at the same speed as that of a normal person."
"Yes Ma'am, sorry Ma'am. I am standing at attention with my back straight, shoulders back and with my hands behind my back."
"And why are you standing at attention?"
"U...because you told me to Ma'am." Sarah caught herself just in time and cringed slightly, hoping she had not caused herself more trouble.
"Well simple minds provide simple results I suppose. You are standing at attention because you are in the presence of a superior. From what I have seen in this short time I think you will be hard pressed to find someone here who will not be your superior at Harkwood," the headmistress said with a sneer.

Sarah flushed in embarrassment, her cheeks becoming a mottled pink. She felt like a small child. Nothing she could do was right. Nothing she said was right. She had been in the building 10 minutes and she already felt like she didn't belong. Maybe she should have stayed at home at her normal high school, maybe she should have refused the chance to go to this great school and really excel.

She had always been a straight A student but that didn't mean much at her old school where most other students were lucky to see anything higher than a C on any exam result. But here she already felt like she might not be able to measure up and she had only just met the headmistress. Somewhere deep inside Sarah found the courage to stop the doubt. She had to pull herself together and believe that she could excel. No not just excel, but to be the best: best in class, best in year and best in school.

"Now, your father has enrolled you in our special curriculum. This means that you will be placed in Trinity house. Your classes will be taken only with other Trinity students, you will reside in the Trinity dormitory and be subject to all rules and regulations pertaining to Trinity house. You are being given a special opportunity Porter. We have a number of very distinguished Trinity alumni, including two wives of European heads of state. I must stress that Trinity girls are set a higher standard. There is no pass or fail for Trinity girls. It is 100% or failure and let me tell you Porter, failure is not tolerated at Harkwood. Understand?"

"Yes Ma'am," Sarah said with conviction. This was her chance to prove herself. A special school house, special subjects. It was everything she had dreamed of.

"Before you are outfitted and meet your handler, first we have to deal with some paperwork. Sign this form in the places marked. Your parents have signed these forms already, as have I. Once your enrolment is complete, your time at Harkwood will begin."

The headmistress rested a pen on the folder and pushed the papers across the desk towards Sarah. She knew this was a test, she only just caught herself from flicking her eyes to the papers. Finally her brain was kicking into gear, after the initial shock of being treated like a child. She knew she wasn't supposed to lean down and take the pen as not only would the book fall off her head but she would be out of position without permission. The only thing that worried her was if she was supposed to ask to move or just wait. She decided that making the headmistress wait might be the worse option.

"May I move to sign Ma'am?"
"Yes Porter, remove the book from your head, place it on the table and sign your enrolment forms."

Sarah reached up and removed the leather-bound book from her head and moved to place it on the table. She reached for the pen and looked at the papers. There was her mother’s and step-father’s signature, there was the headmistress’ large florid signature and all that remained was for her to sign. It was over in seconds. She did not even think to read the document, after all it would have been boring stuff about permissions and grades.

The instant she lifted the pen from the page the headmistress took back the papers and pen and placed them in a draw of the desk. She looked up at Sarah who quickly scrambled back to attention and waited with apprehension for what was to come next.

"Come in Miss Harper," shouted the headmistress.
The door behind Sarah opened and it took a mammoth effort of will for Sarah not to turn around and see who it was.

"Ah Miss Harper. This will be your charge for the rest of the semester. Her name is Porter. Please take her to the Supply Office, have her outfitted and ensure her physical is taken, then give her a perfunctory tour of the grounds. I am afraid that you will miss dinner but a late supper will be provided for you once your charge is safely in dorm."

"Yes Ma'am." Sarah could still not see the girl in question. She sounded a little older, which would make sense. Probably a senior assigned to help her out and help her settle in.

"Porter, this is Miss Harper and you will address her as such. She is a prefect from Medea house. She is to be counted among your superiors here at Harkwood as are all prefects. You owe her your obedience and good behaviour as your behaviour reflects upon her. Technically she is your Housemother but that term is a little archaic and it has become a general rule just to call them handlers. It is a little break with tradition that I allow. Now, go."

Sarah turned to look at the girl and then move towards the door. The girl was a little taller than her and quite a bit stockier than her. Not fat exactly but definitely not slim. A little smile crept onto Sarah's face. This could be her first friend at her new school.

"Porter, when you are dismissed from the presence of a superior you show the proper respect. Now curtsy to Headmistress." Sarah's smile quickly vanished. So much for a new friend. This bitch was probably one of those stuck-up cows that got off on thinking she was better than everyone else. How could she even do a curtsy, she wasn't wearing a skirt.

Sarah's mind raced. She turned back to the headmistress and sort of bent her legs in what she thought was a kind of curtsy she had seen someone do once on TV.

"Wrong, spat Harper. "Stand at attention. Now move your right foot directly behind your left and bend your knees. Too much, you're not doing squats." Sarah was mortified to be corrected like this by another girl but she grit her teeth and did as she was told.

"Now keep your back straight but bend at the waist and lean forwards slightly. Hands out to your side where your skirt should be. Forefinger and thumb together and the rest of your fingers fanned out. Now do it all at once."

Sarah felt the heat of the blush move up her chest to her neck and face. She felt her cheeks go bright red as she performed her first curtsy at the insistence of another young girl.

"Do you wish for this to be marked as an infraction Ma'am," Harper asked the headmistress.
"No Harper this time I shall let it pass. She has earned herself three infractions already, for disobedience, impudence and poor posture. Please make a note for this to be amended to her record at processing."
"Yes Ma'am. Come Porter, pick up your bags and let’s get going."

Sarah bowed her head and shuffled to the door behind the older girl. She picked up her bags and stepped into the corridor, her mind whirling in confusion, humiliation and just a little fear. This was like a crazy place but she would just have to adapt. She would show these people that all their silly rules and traditions were no match for her.

perverpeper@perverpeper.com