Something tells me that she does not like what she sees.
“And so, in the circumstances, I have no alternative but to ask for your resignation.” Matron looks at me severely. “I fully appreciate that my—that Nurse Green may have proved an evil influence but I cannot allow bad apples to go on spoiling the barrel indiscriminately. There is no place for bruised fruit at Queen Adelaide’s.” I can’t think of anything to say to that so I keep my mouth shut. “I realise that you were not alone in this sorry incident and Doctor Quint’s decision to leave the hospital and study Sleeping Sickness in the Congo is, I think, a wise one. If you could have your room cleared by …”
She need not worry. I have already packed my bags. Just time to say goodbye to a few friends and I will be ready for Adam Quint when he calls to take me out to lunch. Of course, there will be no repetition of the unsavoury scenes of the previous night. Champagne and virginity obviously do not mix as far as I am concerned. In days to come I must take good care of the merchandise if I am to avoid presenting my future Mr Right with shop-soiled goods. It is only by a hairsbreadth that I have so far avoided compromising my principles.
As I leave Matron’s office I am not as downcast as I might be. Of course, I am sad about leaving Queen Adelaide’s but I have in my pocket a letter from Penny Green which could lead to even more interesting and stimulating employment.
The writing paper is headed “St Rodence Private Boarding School For Girls, Little Rogering, Nr. Southmouth, Hants.” It reads: Dear Rosie, I hope you still remember me. I am now working as Sports Mistress at St Rodence. It is a crummy dump and most of the staff are nearer the grave than anything Queen A’s has to offer but the countryside is nice and there are lots of sailors and things like that at Southmouth. Some of the masters at the local boys schools are not bad either and desperate(!) for female company.
“I am writing because there is a vacancy for a gym mistress to assist me and I thought it might be rather a jape if we teamed up. Get in touch if you are getting a bit bored with hospital life. Tons of love, Penny.”
Of course, Penny is rather free but I like the idea of working with young people. Perhaps I might meet some clean-limbed young schoolmaster. I believe they are very dedicated. I am still thinking about the possibilities when the lift doors open.
There, all by himself in a wheelchair, is Mr Arkwright. “I gave my gaoler the slip,” he says evilly. “Now, how about that game of ‘Naughty Nanas’?”
He jabs at the “basement” button and clutches at my leg. Something inside me snaps. I am tired of being pushed around by dirty old men of all ages. The time has come to take a leaf out of Penny’s book.
“I prefer ‘Furry Quoits’, “ I say.
“What’s that?” There is a nervous flutter in the old wart hog’s voice.
“Whip out your peg and I’ll show you.”
“Get away from me!” Arkwright cowers in his wheelchair.
“You’re scared, aren’t you?” I lift my skirt and give him a flash of the full frontals.
“No! No!”
“Scared of this!” Down come my panties.
The lift doors slide open and there is Sister Belter. Her eyes widen in horror as she takes in the hideous scene: the crumpled heap in the wheel chair; me, skirt up, knickers down.
“ I have this thing about older men,” I explain.
THE END
Confessions of a Gym Mistress
BY ROSIE DIXON
CONTENTS
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
“I can remember when you were sent back from Brownies’ Camp,” says Dad.
“That’s unkind, dear,” says Mum. “It was a day trip to Hampton Court and she had a nose bleed.”
“I wasn’t sent back from Queen Adelaide’s, Dad,” I say. “I resigned. I didn’t think that hospital life was going to agree with me.”
“That was sensible of her, Dad. You have to admit that. The longer she stayed the more difficult it would have been to make the break.”
“Humpf.” Dad is obviously not impressed. That does not surprise me. I would have to come back disguised as my sister Natalie to get a smile out of him.
In many ways I was sad to leave the hospital but when the ceiling gave way and Dr Quint and I fell on Sister Belter’s bed I knew, in my heart of hearts, that it was time to move on. People can be very quick to jump to conclusions and the fact that Adam and I were both semi-naked could have led a suggestable mind to imagine that we had been indulging in more than frivolous horseplay.
“What’s she going to do, now?” says Dad. “They won’t have her back at the Tech, you know.”
I really hate Dad when he talks about me as if I was not in the room. “I’m thinking of going into teaching,” I say.
“Teaching!?” If I had said bronco-busting, Dad could not have sounded more surprised.
“You haven’t got the qualifications.”
“I’ve got my ‘O’ levels,” I say.
“Art and needlework?”
“It may surprise you to know that qualifications are not all important in the private sector,” I say loftily. “The character of the applicant is what counts.”
“Then you’re out before you start,” says Dad unkindly. “Anyway, what do you mean, ‘the private sector’?”
“I mean a school that isn’t state controlled. A school where the parents pay fees.”
“I wouldn’t pay fees to have my kids taught by you.”
“I know you wouldn’t, Dad. You gave me a satchel as a combined Christmas and birthday present, didn’t you?”
Dad does not take kindly to this remark. “You’ve never wanted for anything from me, my girl. Just a darn good thrashing. That’s where I went wrong.”
“Dad, please! There’s no need to talk to the girl like that.” Mum silences Dad with a look and turns to me. “Are you really saying it’s easier to become a teacher at some posh public school than it is to get a job at the comprehensive down the road?”
“You