Amy Turner knew she was in trouble as she sat, trembling, outside the Headmaster's office. She had never been summoned here before, never been in trouble before. She was the good girl, the vicar's daughter, and although she had just turned eighteen she felt just like a child again. The tone of the Headmaster's note to her own Form Master, the look on his face, the stares of her fellow pupils all had her in trepidation as she walked the long, silent corridor in fear.
She didn't know what she was supposed to have done but the way the Headmaster's fierce secretary had informed him of her arrival with a blunt, "She's here," let her know that whatever it was it must be very bad, very bad indeed, for Miss O'Hare to treat her so cruelly. The 40 year old secretary had simply sat behind her desk, returned to her paperwork and ignored Amy.
After what seemed a lifetime of standing there (as Miss O'Hare had made a point of not inviting her to sit), the door to the Headmaster's office was thrown open and Mr Gallagher suddenly appeared in front of Amy. He had always frightened her with his tall frame (at least six foot four) and now towered above her slight five feet nothing. As he came closer, his body seemed to fill the room and, when Amy eventually found the strength to lift her eyes, he glared down at her.
"You," he commanded, "In my office now!"
Amy could do nothing but obey as she took a few steps forward into what seemed like a trap. And that is exactly what it was as the Headmaster and Miss O'Hare followed her into the room -- the secretary locking the door behind them.
"What's going on?" Amy pleaded.
"You may well ask, Miss Turner. When did it become acceptable to cheat at exams in this school?" the Headmaster thundered, having walked round his huge desk and sat down behind it. Miss O'Hare, meanwhile, remained behind Amy.
The young girl didn't understand a word he had said. Yes, they had just sat their final Maths exam but Amy had always come top of her class in Maths, as in everything else. She didn't need to cheat. She knew there had obviously been some mistake and, relaxing just a little, she said so to the Headmaster.
"Is that so," he asked sarcastically. "In that case maybe you can tell me why both you and Alison White got exactly the same mark and made exactly the same mistakes?" He threw the two identical papers at the frightened girl and she tried, vainly, to catch them. As she bent down to pick them up off the floor she heard a gasp from behind and, looking round, saw Miss O'Hare appearing to look up her short skirt. Confused more than ever, she stood up and looked at the papers in her trembling hands. Sure enough, both the papers seemed to be exact copies with only the names at the top differing.
"But Alison must have copied me. She sat behind me during the exam. She must have done!" she entreated.
"Don't make it worse for yourself by trying to blame another innocent pupil. I have already spoken to Miss White (he hadn't but she was a fat, ugly girl and of no use to him). She has promised me that she would never cheat so the only other explanation is that you are the culprit. The only question now is what are we going to do about it?"
"Do?" asked Amy in total bewilderment; she couldn't understand any of this. It was all happening too fast. "What do you mean?"
"You must be punished, Miss Turner. Otherwise you will never learn the error of your ways. The only alternative to being punished by myself is for me to call your father and leave the matter to him. Would you prefer that, Miss Turner? Would you like me to call the vicarage and let your parents know that you are a cheat?"
The tears poured from Amy's downcast eyes as she imagined her father and Sunday- School teacher mum discovering that their only daughter, their pride and joy was nothing more than a common cheat. This was so unfair, she had done nothing wrong. If she ever got out of this office Alison White was going to pay.
"Please, Sir. I'll do anything. Just don't let my parent's find out. I'll accept whatever punishment you see fit to give me."
Inwardly he was smiling in delight as his plan started to come to fruition but to Amy his face never changed. He continued to glare at her from beneath his dark eyebrows and eventually leaned back in his chair.
"Very well, Miss Turner. You shall be punished and punished right now. Take off your clothes."