Regenesis

Abigail - Test over

Behind her the door to the Director's office opened. Abigail instinctively turned her head to see who might appear, although she knew only too well. It was a very different pair of girls who emerged through the doorway. Rather than the happy-go-lucky pair who had skipped around the corner giggling cheerfully into Miss Minsk's path, Meredith and Helen now slunk out of the office with drooping shoulders and tear-stained but flushed cheeks, their hair not as neatly bound as when they went in, perhaps as a result of the convulsing of their bodies after each stroke. They made their way slowly to the places they previously occupied and waited for instructions. Miss Hartley rose from her seat and made her way towards them, but not before opening her desk drawer. Abigail wondered if they were to get their knickers back, and was shocked to see her holding a wooden hairbrush, similar to the one Miss Minsk used. She watched as Miss Hartley approached and saw her face betray a slight sense of shock mixed with pity as she took in the state of their bottoms, now fully on display and matching the beetroot flush of their faces. Surely she wasn't going to add to their torture.

"You are to wait here for your tutor to come and collect you. I suggest you try and clean yourselves up a bit. You have two minutes to help each other, and then back at fingertips, if you please." She handed the hairbrush to the nearest girl and stood watching.

Abigail tried to regain her concentration while the two girls fumbled to get themselves up to the standard which was presumably expected. Hair was rapidly brushed and drawn back into the requisite ponytail before a slightly crumpled ribbon was retied. Meredith plucked a handkerchief from her cuff and looked across at her partner in crime whose eyes betrayed her guilt. Miss Hartley immediately spotted the shame.

"Helen!"

"Yes, Miss?"

"Where is your handkerchief?"

"I.....I....must have lost it, Miss."

"....and your spare?"

Miss Hartley let the question hang.

"Instead of enjoying your free time tomorrow afternoon, you will report to the laundry immediately after lunch."

"Yes, Miss"

"Meredith will lend you her spare."

Yes, Miss. Thank you Meredith."

Tears were dabbed and noses blown, in a very genteel manner, of course. Each girl looked the other up and down, making slight adjustments, but all in a practised manner. Abigail wondered if this mutual grooming might be a part of their daily routine. Would this be a part of her own routine if she were lucky enough to be offered a place? Although she pitied both girls, she did admire how they worked together and even envied their evident deep friendship. Finally Miss Hartley looked at her watch ostentatiously and held her hand out to receive the hairbrush. It was duly handed back and both girls raised their arms into the hated fingertips position, their raised tunics rising in tandem making their already exposed bottoms just a little more so.

Abigail went back to her writing, putting a suitable conclusion to question she was answering.

Finally there was this "Outline ways in which you hope to use what you will learn at the Institute in your everyday life and inculcate these values in those put in your charge." She looked up at the clock ticking away ominously on the wall and saw that she only had 9 minutes left for this last question. She would have to work quickly but what did she have to say as she had no direct experience of what she might learn at the Institute, still less about how she might teach it to others. It was obvious: Meredith and Helen would be her experience. She fabricated a whole "day in the life of" making up a routine which would have social, educational and physical components running throughout the day, with elements of faith, resilience and mutual reliance, all wrapped up in a loving, but strict environment all within the walls of the Institute. Abigail didn't know how much of it might be true, but based on her experience so far in Iuvenham, she could count on a fair amount of it.

As she was putting the finishing touches to it and checking through her work, the main door from the outside opened and in strode a young lady, no more than 21, but very sure of herself, dressed in a smart white fitted blouse over a beautiful pleated grey woollen skirt which hung down to mid calf over dark stockings. Her dark brown hair hung in waves which bounced slightly as she walked. It was clear, not only from her manner, that she was not a student here, but also from the fact that her face had been made up with subtle, but immaculately applied cosmetics to highlight her best features and set her apart from the girls standing in front of her. She took up a position in between and just behind both girls, who maintained their pose, not looking round for a second.

"Dear me, girls! And you were doing so well. You were both given extra credit during our staff meeting this morning, but I can see that will have to be adjusted. It's all the more embarrassing that you were reported by one of our alumnae. That reflects badly on the Institute, and especially on me. You are already late for your afternoon lessons. What do you have now, Meredith?"

"Embroidery, Miss."

"I will escort you there now, and you will have to explain to Miss Carter why you are late, although your appearance will make that abundantly clear. When the bell rings for tea, you are to go to your room and prepare for an inspection. It had better be immaculate, or you will be scrubbing it clean all night too. Am I clear?"

"Y...Yes Miss."

"Ummmm, Miss?"

"Yes, Helen?"

"We don't have our knickers, Miss."

"I know......now arms down and off we go to class."

"But......"

"As you well know, Meredith, we don't "but" here. Two demerits." The lady took a device out of her skirt pocket and tapped on it. Almost immediately a buzzing sound could be heard coming from Meredith's direction. Her body jolted visibly and she gasped.

"Excuse me Miss Standish..." a voice from the other end of the room.

"Yes, Miss Hartley?"

"Helen will be helping out in the laundry tomorrow afternoon."

"Oh? What did you do, Helen?"

"I lost my handkerchief, Miss"

"In that case you can have two demerits as well."

An identical buzz came from Helen's direction, followed by a similar gasp.

Abigail's eyes widened at what she had just witnessed, but she managed to regain her composure.

"Now off we go."

She waited while the two girls turned and walked smartly out of the room, their  tunics still buttoned up their backs, and their reddened bottoms showing for all the world to see. Miss Standish paused to look at Abigail and her writing. She smiled without a word before following her charges out of the room.

The silence in the room felt oppressive, with just the ticking of the clock and the quiet tapping of the computer. Abigail sighed to herself, before realising that it could be heard. She looked up anxiously and saw Miss Hartley glowering at her.

Finally her time was up and Miss Hartley came to take Abigail's work from her, just as the door opened from outside and Miss Minsk came in, carrying Abigail's hat, coat and gloves.