The Compliant Personality Type

Chapter Twenty-Six - A Palliative Lesson

I was being a complete bitch.

The worst thing was that I knew I was being a complete bitch but, somehow, I just couldn't help it.

I mean... people had even started to avoid me. And I didn't blame them. If I was them, I'd have been avoiding me too.

The weekend had been perfect.

Candy and I had gone out sailing both days. On the second day, we hadn't seen any whales but we had seen loads more dolphins and a couple of turtles.

And, in the evenings, I'd had dinner with Daniel - basically staring, wordlessly, at each other most of the time.

And, of course, Grandpa just sat there, looking amused.

On the second evening, he'd brought a book along!

But on the Monday morning, Daniel had sailed off into... well... into the sunrise. I know it sounds wrong but he'd been heading east

I'd got special permission to see him off before breakfast - more silent staring into each other's eyes until Grandpa got bored. "You may give her one slightly less chaste kiss," he told Daniel, "but you had better be in the tender by the time I reach the terrace!"

I was so stunned by that kiss that I didn't really notice as he hopped into the RIB and bounced his way out to the yacht.

And I was still feeling pretty numb as they hoisted up the RIB and raised the anchor

And then I just stood there on the beach, staring after the yacht as it sailed away.

Suddenly Grandpa was there with his arm around me. "He'll be back," he reassured me. "I don't think we could keep him away if we tried!"

I sort of wanted to shrug his arm off but he did this stupid throat clearing thing which basically told me that Dr Simmons wasn't the only one round here who knew how to give whacks.

"Now," he went on as if nothing had happened," would you care to join me for breakfast?

"No thank you, Grandpa," I managed to reply without being whackably rude. "I wouldn't be very good company. I'll get on back to school."

The morning had been impossible... and I had been impossible. I was relieved when I could sneak off upstairs to the dorm for my siesta.

I wasn't feeling much better afterwards. I swam about a million brutal lengths and then collapsed into one of the recliners, closed my eyes and wished it would all go away.

The others were all giving me plenty of room so I was surprised when somebody took the chair next to mine. I looked up to see it was Madam Pembridge. "Would you care to talk about it, dear?" she asked gently.

"No!"

She studied me for a moment. "We all appreciate that you are feeling miserable and frustrated," she said, "but there is absolutely no call for you to be deliberately offensive."

I delayed rather too long before giving the appropriate, "Yes, Miss," answer.

And, infuriatingly, she didn't even look irritated by my rudeness - more amused really which didn't do anything for my sparkling mood! "I believe this is what is called a 'teaching moment'!" she said.

She turned to the rest of the class. "Clothes on please, girls," she said as if absolutely nothing had happened. "Come down to the classroom with me right now, please."

There was a bit of confused muttering but, of course, everybody did as they were told.

"I have decided to adjust my teaching syllabus," she announced when we got there, "to address the particular requirements of one of your classmates." She unrolled the thin mattress and laid it on top of the teacher's desk. "Clothes off please, Kayleigh, and hop up here." She took a white sheet from her cupboard and flicked it out on top of the mattress, tucking it in around the edges.