No one was more surprised than me to find myself as a register monitor. I collected the register one morning and ensured its passage back to the office before the first lesson. Later, I collected it again for a teacher to check the afternoon attendance. I realised quickly that the system the school used to enter a ‘present’ mark could easily be manipulated to my advantage, due to a stroke of good luck.
Mum had provided me with an absence note with no date on for the dentist. My form teacher made a note of it in the register and I left school early in the afternoon for the appointment, having removed the note for re-use. The day after it was recorded as me being present the previous day, nothing came of the note being missing. This was a result for me and that note came out a couple of times each term unless I had a real appointment.
I had pulled three or four of these fake absences, but the form mistress was getting suspicious and at morning registration she requested my presence at four o’clock. I tried to point out that I was at the dentist, but she was ahead of me. She’d spoken with my mum, who knew nothing about the appointments, and they both realised I was wagging school.
Suffice to say, the game was up, as was my skirt later as I bent over facing the blackboard. Eight stinging whacks with the slipper was my reward. I left the room in tears with my bottom on fire in the knowledge I had to face my mum later. I was no longer the register monitor!
“You’re grounded till Monday,” was my greeting at home. “And I hope you can’t sit down!”
Wow! It was only Wednesday. Still, it could have been worse.
The following day, I arrived for registration and took my place as usual. The form mistress went through the usual motions and then the humiliation began. It went something like this.
“Stand up, Annie. As you may have noticed, Annie is no longer registration monitor as she misused my trust in her. She is to be replaced by Carol Howard. For those who don’t already know, Annie received eight strokes of the slipper after school yesterday and was lucky not to be sent for the cane. Anybody else who thinks of misusing my trust in the future can expect the same.”
Saturday arrived. My bottom was a lot more comfortable, or so I thought, and Sue and Susan were allowed in to keep me company.
Mid-afternoon arrived and we heard Peter come in.
“Skirt and knickers off, Annie,” mum barked. “And you three can sit on the settee and watch.”
Peter sat between Sue and Susan and I went over mum’s knee, my bottom facing the audience. In mum’s hand was her hairbrush. She thrashed my bottom relentlessly, so much so that the stinging had gone and a numbness set into my bottom. I remained across her knee until she was satisfied. My cheeks, I’m told, were changing to blue with a bull-eye forming on each one.
It was back to school on Monday. Gym was a nightmare as mum had hair brushed the whole of my bottom and my knickers couldn’t cover all the marks left. Worst of all was the showers where nothing was covered and my humiliation was complete.